y/rt 


WE   SHALL   REACH    EDINBURGH   TO    SUP  AND 
REST.1'     (Page  12) 


» 


A  STORY  OF  ADVENTURE  IN  THE 

TIME  OF  KING  JAMES 

THE  FIRST 


BY 


RUTH   HALL 


BOSTON   AND   NEW  YORK 

HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND  COMPANY 


1898 


COPYRIGHT,  1898,  BY  RTTTH  HALL. 
ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED. 


TO 

MY  NEPHEWS 

FOK   WHOM  IT   WAS   WKITTEN 

THIS   STORY  IS 

DEDICATED 


2228372 


PREFACE. 


I  HAVE  chosen,  for  the  period  in  which 
these  scenes  are  laid,  the  ten  years  between 
the  death  of  Queen  Elizabeth  and  the  first 
settlement  at  Manhattan. 

It  is  a  time  seldom  approached  in  fiction, 
and  yet  rich  in  notable  personages  and  ro- 
mantic adventures.  It  portrays  the  condition, 
at  that  date,  of  Europe  and  of  America,  and 
thus  betrays  the  reasons  which  induced  emi- 
grants to  leave  their  homes  to  begin  life  again 
in  a  new  country.  More  than  all,  it  shows 
the  relations  of  the  earliest  colonies  that 
dotted  the  shores  of  what  are  now  the  United 
States,  and  the  conditions  which  governed 
them.  That  decade  saw  the  true  beginnings 
of  a  nation. 

Because  so  much  now  depends  upon  what 
happened  then,  because  our  country  rose  to 


vi  PREFACE 

be  what  she  is  from  what  other  countries 
were,  I  have  written  the  adventures  of  two 
boys,  three  hundred  years  ago,  for  young 
Americans  of  the  end  of  the  nineteenth 
century. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  THE  DEATH-BED  OF  A  QUEEN         ...  1 

II.    HOW   THE    NEWS   BEACHED   HOLYROOD             .  11 

III.  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  MOOB       ....  22 

IV.  KING  JAMES  PASSES  SENTENCE     ...  33 
V.  KIDNAPED  .                43 

VI.  IN  THE  OAK  ROOM 54 

VH.  FBOM  THE  TOWER  TO  WINCHESTER        .        .  67 

VIII.  ENTER  GUY  FAWKES 79 

IX.  THE  GUNPOWDER  PLOT 91 

X.  AT  HOLBEACH 101 

XI.  PRINCE  HENRY  AND  CAPTAIN  SMITH       .        .113 

XII.  THE  TOWN  CLOCK  AT  SLUYS        ...  124 

XIII.  WITH  PRINCE  MAURICE 134 

XIV.  KLAASZOON  THE  MARTYR     ....  145 
XV.  BEFORE  GROLL 155 

XVI.  THE  RECORDER'S  GUEST       ....  165 

XVII.  IN  GIBRALTAR  BAY 176 

XVIII.   WHEN  THE  SMOKE  CLEARED         .        .        .  186 

XIX.  THE  KING'S  SWORD 195 

XX.  ON  THE  HALF  MOON 206 

XXI.  TAKEN  CAPTIVE 218 

XXII.  WHAT  HAPPENED  ON  HUDSON'S  RIVER        .  230 

XXIII.  WINONA'S  TOTEM 243 

XXIV.  THE  VICTIM  OF  RAVAILLAC  ....  256 
XXV.  THE  NORTHWEST  PASSAGE        ....  267 

XXVI.  AN  ARCTIC  WINTER 279 

XXVII.  MUTINY 290 

XXVIII.   ADRIFT  WITH  HUDSON 302 

XXIX.  FROM  BAY  TO  RIVER 315 

XXX.  YOUNG  AMERICANS         .  325 


IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 


CHAPTER  I 

THE    DEATH-BED    OF    A    QUEEN 

"  GILES  !  art  awake,  Giles  ?  " 

It  was  a  windy,  rainy  night  in  March. 
Giles  Valentine  sprang  from  his  bed.  A 
pebble  had  been  thrown  against  the  lattice. 
A  voice  called  to  him  from  the  garden  below. 
He  ran  to  the  window  and  thrust  the  sash 
aside.  Through  the  dark  he  could  make  out 
a  man's  figure,  —  a  figure  holding  a  lighted 
lantern  in  one  hand. 

The  boy  leaned  forward  :  "  Who  's  there  ?  " 

"  Hist ! "  said  the  man,  raising  his  finger 
to  his  lip.  "Canst  climb  from  the  window, 
Giles?  I  would  not  that  the  household  be 
roused,  but  I  need  thee,  lad." 

It  was  the  voice  of  Giles's  guardian,  and  of 
the  family's  nearest  neighbor,  Sir  Robert 
Carey.  The  idea  of  disobedience  never 
entered  the  boy's  head,  and  a  thrill  of 


2  AV   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

pleasure  ran  through  his  veins  at  the  chance 
of  so  mysterious  an  adventure. 

"  In  one  moment,"  he  answered.  "  It 
shall  not  take  long  to  dress.  I  can  swing 
myself  down  by  the  vine  and  the  laburnum. 
Wait  only  one  moment." 

"  Haste  !  "  was  the  reply.     "  Make  haste  !  " 

With  nervous  trembling,  Giles  hurried  into 
his  clothing.  He  threw  his  short  cloak  over 
his  shoulder,  and  seized  his  plumed  bonnet. 
At  last  he  was  ready.  He  cautiously  crept 
upon  the  window-sill.  As  he  thrust  out  one 
foot  to  find  lodging  in  the  stout  ivy  stalk 
nailed  against  the  house,  the  man,  waiting  for 
him  in  the  garden,  called  to  him  in  the  same 
hushed  tones :  — 

"  Hast  money  with  thee,  Giles  ?  " 

The  boy  paused,  surprised,  and  looked 
down  at  him  from  his  perch.  "  All  I  own," 
he  answered,  "  is  in  my  belt.  I  have  "  — 

"  No  matter.  Thy  mother  keeps  thee  well 
supplied.  And  art  warmly  wrapped  ?  We 
may  ride  far  to-night." 

Much  wondering  what  this  could  mean, 
Giles  nodded  assent,  continuing  his  climb. 
It  was  an  easy  feat  for  a  strong,  nimble  fel- 
low used  to  the  sport.  He  caught  a  surer 
foothold  upon  a  swinging  tree-branch,  thus 


THE  DEATH-BED   OF  A   QUEEN  3 

throwing  himself  from  the  vine  to  that  sup- 
port, and  thence  sliding  quickly  to  the 
ground.  Carey  seized  him  at  once  by  the 
shoulder. 

"  Now  thy  pony,"  he  whispered  in  the  boy's 
ear.  "  Have  him  at  the  park  gate  as  speedily 
as  may  be.  I  shall  wait  thee  there.  Haste, 
lad.  Thou  canst  not  guess  the  need  for 
haste.  Thy  whole  future  may  depend  on  't." 

Puzzled  indeed  by  these  words,  impres- 
sively delivered,  the  boy  sped  across  the  draw- 
bridge, always  down  in  these  peaceful  days 
of  Queen  Elizabeth.  He  dashed  at  a  tangent 
over  the  bowling  green,  and  disappeared  from 
sight  among  the  offices  that  clustered  close  to 
the  Grange.  When  he  reappeared,  leading 
his  pony  over  the  grass-plots  that  there  might 
be  no  sound,  his  guardian  was  nowhere  to  be 
seen.  At  the  park  gate  they  met  again. 

"  Ride  like  the  wind,"  commanded  Carey, 
swinging  himself  to  his  own  saddle.  He 
gathered  up  the  reins,  and  gave  his  horse 
the  spur.  "  Follow  me,"  he  cried  over  his 
shoulder,  "  and  ride  like  the  wind !  " 

Nothing  loth,  Giles  mounted,  and  slapped 
Dapple  smartly  with  his  palm.  A  delicious 
sensation  of  excitement  and  exultation  pos- 
sessed him. 


4  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

"  Lead  on,  sir,"  he  called  as  his  steed  broke 
into  a  gallop.  "  I  shall  follow  you." 

On  and  on  they  rode,  through  the  rough 
tracks  that  at  that  time  were  called  the  high- 
road, on  and  •  on,  in  a  breathless  silence, 
past  leafless  hedgerows,  and  here  and  there 
a  silent  house,  sleeping  in  the  quiet  before 
the  dawn.  The  pattering  raindrops  fell  upon 
them.  The  raw  cold  crept  through  Giles's 
cloak  and  his  close-fitting,  lace-trimmed  vest. 
The  romance  of  this  adventure  was  all  he  felt. 
He  urged  Dapple  at  the  heels  of  his  guar- 
dian's horse. 

They  entered  Richmond.  He  began  to 
question  within  himself  if  it  could  be  possible 
that  the  palace  was  their  destination.  The 
queen  lay  ill,  some  men  said  dying,  within 
that  dusky  pile  of  buildings  that  stretched  out 
before  them.  Scattered  lights  gleamed  in 
the  casements.  Carey  glanced  up  towards 
one  window  with  a  face  of  such  keen  anxiety 
that  Giles  remarked  the  look. 

"  Not  yet,"  the  man  muttered  between  his 
teeth. 

He  pulled  up  his  horse  by  the  roadside, 
beckoning  the  boy  to  come  closer  to  him. 

"  Now  it  is  your  part,"  he  said  rapidly, 
bending  over  his  saddle  so  that  his  face 


THE  DEATH-BED   OF  A   QUEEN  5 

approached  his  ward's.  "  Giles,  thou  hast  a 
friend  among  the  queen's  pages,  —  young 
Verrooy?" 

"  Oh,  Jan  ?  Yes,  sir,  I  know  Jan  right 
well." 

"  Go  thou  to  him  at  once.  Seek  him  out, 
and  tell  him  I  would  have  speech  with  him 
without  delay.  He  wih1  doubtless  plead  duty. 
But  all  is  confusion  there.  Her  Majesty  is 
nigh  death.  Tell  him  thou  wilt  take  his 
place  for  the  time,  and  I  must  speak  with 
him." 

"Ay,"  said  Giles  readily.     «  And  then  ?  " 

Carey  dropped  his  voice  still  lower.  Giles 
saw  that  the  hand  laid  on  his  saddle-bow  was 
shaking.  "  Then  thou  must  make  thy  way  to 
the  queen's  apartments.  Hush  !  —  this  is  no 
time  for  parley.  Do  as  I  tell  thee.  Thou 
art  a  brave  lad,  and  cunning.  Thou  must 
not  be  detected  nor  noted.  But  slip  thyself 
in  there  thou  shalt.  Bring  me  word  all  that 
takes  place ;  if  the  queen  sinks  or  gains,  and 
what  is  said  about  her.  Thou  must  see  her 
Majesty  with  thine  own  eyes,  to  tell  me  how 
she  fares.  No  one  will  mark  thee  among  the 
boys  that  wait  upon  her.  And  thou  shalt  be- 
hold "  (.he  kept  his  keen  glance  upon  Giles's 
reluctant  face)  "  what  many  men  would  give 


D  IN    THE  BRAVE  DAYS   OF  OLD 

one  eye  to  witness,  —  the  death-bed  of  Eliza- 
beth." 

With  all  the  incentive  of  curiosity  and  of 
risk,  it  was  not  a  task  to  Giles's  liking.  Still 
he  had  no  notion  of  downright  refusal  to  his 
guardian's  demand.  He  threw  his  reins  to 
Carey,  and  slid  softly  to  the  ground.  Across 
the  road  he  ran,  watched  his  chance,  and 
slipped  unnoticed  into  the  very  doorway  of 
the  palace.  As  the  man  had  surmised,  all 
was  unsettled  there.  Giles  had  never  visited 
Jan  before.  He  had  never  seen  the  queen, 
although  she  had  appeared  in  public  not  long 
since.  A  question  or  two  brought  him  to 
the  presence  of  his  friend.  Two  boys  sat 
upon  a  bench  in  an  antechamber,  leaning 
against  each  other,  blinking  and  rubbing 
their  eyes. 

It  was  a  favorable  moment  for  Carey's 
plan.  Jan  was  but  partially  wakened  by 
Giles's  touch  on  his  shoulder,  and  Giles's 
whisper  in  his  ear.  He  met  the  propo- 
sition that  the  new-comer  should  take  his 
place  without  the  demur  he  would  have  made 
had  he  realized  what  it  meant.  The  other 
attendant  stretched  his  arms  wide,  smiled 
from  one  to  the  other,  and  threw  his  full 
length  upon  the  bench.  In  an  instant  he 


THE  DEATH-BED   OF  A   QUEEN  1 

was  fast  asleep.  Jan  looked  at  him  enviously, 
yawned,  and,  with  drooping  eyelids  and  lag- 
ging step,  sauntered  away  to  the  appoint- 
ment. 

Giles  drew  a  long  breath. 

A  heavy  curtain  hung  across  one  door 
opposite  to  him.  Behind  this  he  could  hear 
soft  voices  and  hurried  steps.  Another  door, 
near  this,  stood  open. 

Presently,  through  this  last,  a  little  proces- 
sion came  walking  solemnly.  Giles  recog- 
nized the  leader,  a  grave-faced  man,  in  black 
velvet  cap  and  gown.  It  was  the  secretary, 
Cecil. 

A  courtier  glanced  towards  the  seat  where 
Giles  was  watching  with  earnest  eyes.  The 
boy's  heart  gave  a  leap.  The  man  motioned 
to  him.  Here  was  his  opportunity.  He 
sprang  to  his  feet.  This  was  the  queen's 
Council,  he  was  sure,  and  they  were  going  to 
the  death-bed.  Giles  sped  across  the  room. 
He  pulled  the  curtain  aside.  He  stood  back 
to  watch  the  company  file  through  the  door- 
way. Then  in  their  shadow  he  entered  the 
royal  presence. 

An  enormous,  high-canopied  bedstead  stood 
in  the  centre  of  the  apartment.  Beside  it, 
on  the  rich  Turkey  rug,  knelt  weeping  women. 


8  IN   TUE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

A  physician,  glass  in  hand,  stood  at  the  head- 
board. On  the  white  pile  of  pillows,  —  one 
of  the  luxuries  of  that  day,  —  lay  the  mighty 
queen.  Giles  could  not  take  his  eyes  from 
her. 

It  was  an  old,  old  woman  that  he  saw  :  she 
seemed  even  older  than  her  years.  Her 
streaming  locks  had  the  peculiar  ashy  appear- 
ance of  light  hair  turned  gray.  Her  features 
were  sharply  drawn.  Her  nose  and  mouth 
had  a  peevish,  pinched  expression.  Her  hazel 
eyes  looked  out  wistfully  from  her  pale  face, 
as  if  they  tried  to  speak. 

The  secretary  approached  her  bed.  He 
bent  the  knee  reverently. 

"  Madam,"  he  said,  "  your  faithful  servants 
have  returned  for  some  sure  token  of  your 
Majesty's  will.  One  hour  ago,"  — he  kept 
watch  of  those  speaking  eyes,  —  "we  asked 
whose  was  the  succession.  You  answered 
us  :  *  No  rascal's  son,  but  a  king's.'  Your 
gracious  Majesty  knows  what  this  means  to 
the  land  you  will  leave  comfortless.  We  pray 
you  make  your  wishes  plain.  Who  is  to  rule  ? 
Is  it  to  be  James  of  Scotland  ?  " 

Every  eye  in  the  room  was  fixed  upon  her 
now.  Giles  suddenly  felt  assured  that  this 
was  his  errand.  He  remembered  boasts  from 


THE  DEATH-BED  OF  A  .QUEEN  9 

Carey  of  his  patron  in  Edinburgh.  The  an- 
swer of  Elizabeth  was  what  he  was  to  carry 
to  his  guardian. 

She  tried  to  speak  again  and  again.  No 
articulate  sound  could  force  its  way  through 
the  shrunken  lips.  At  last  —  it  seemed  an 
endless  time  —  she  slowly,  painfully  raised 
her  two  hands,  those  beautifully  shaped  hands 
that  princes  were  wont  to  praise.  Above  her 
head  they  crept.  Over  her  forehead  they 
formed  a  crown. 

"  It  is  King  James,"  said  Cecil. 

Giles  left  the  room,  no  one  heeding  nor 
hindering.  He  hastened  noiselessly  past  Jan's 
slumbering  comrade,  through  the  passages  to 
the  outer  air.  He  found  his  friend,  covered 
by  Carey's  cloak,  asleep  on  the  dry  grass 
where  the  horses  were  stamping  restlessly 
close  at  hand.  His  guardian  sprang  from 
out  the  shadow. 

"Well?"  he  breathed. 

Giles  told  his  story  in  the  fewest  words. 
He  saw  Carey's  face  light  up.  His  hand 
tightened  upon  the  hilt  of  his  sword.  "  As  I 
hoped  and  believed,"  he  cried.  "  Lad,  lad, 
our  fortunes  are  made  !  " 

Still  he  did  not  remove  his  gaze  from  the 
building.  His  eyes  were  fastened  upon  the 


10  IX   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

light  within  one  window,  in  no  little  anxiety 
and  impatience. 

The  casement  moved.  Carey  flung  his  rein 
to  the  boy.  He  sprang  across  the  road.  A 
lady's  head  appeared  in  the  lighted  square. 
It  bent  forward.  A  white  hand  threw  some- 
thing to  the  watcher  below.  He  seized  it, 
looked,  and  then  made  one  bound  towards 
the  nearest  door.  He  glanced  inside. 

Back  he  came,  like  a  shadow.  He  scram- 
bled into  his  saddle,  and  motioned  in  agita- 
tion to  Giles.  He  thrust  one  hand  into  his 
doublet.  The  boy  saw  that  it  held  a  glisten- 
ing ring. 

"  Turn,"  he  hissed,  "  and  ride  as  thou 
never  hast  before !  Our  fortunes  are  made,  I 
tell  thee,  Giles.  Elizabeth  is  dead,  and  thou 
and  I  —  we  shall  carry  the  news  to  King 
James." 


CHAPTER  II 

HOW  THE  NEWS  REACHED  HOLYROOD 

"  MY  poor  Giles,"  said  Sir  Robert,  looking 
back  as  he  rode.  "  Thou  art  nigh  done  for, 
art  thou  not  ?  " 

His  ward  drew  a  long,  gasping  breath. 
He  was  bent  forward  upon  the  pommel.  One 
stiff  hand  loosened  itself  from  the  rein.  The 
other  reached  out  to  return  Carey's  kindly 
touch.  It  was  seldom  that  anything  in  the 
nature  of  a  caress  was  given  to  him  by  this 
stern,  quiet  man.  The  boy,  thoroughly  ex- 
hausted by  this  ceaseless  exertion,  was  much 
affected.  He  said  quickly,  though  his  tone 
showed  the  fatigue  he  would  not  acknow- 
ledge :  — 

"  Methinks  I  shall  be  myself  again  when  I 
have  had  a  good  night's  sleep.  It  is  the 
change  from  one  relay  of  horses  to  another 
that  tires  me  most.  With  Dapple,  I  could 
stand  as  long  a  ride,  I  know." 

"  'T  is  the  night  work,"  observed  Sir  Rob- 
ert. "  Thou  art  full  young  for  such  an  en- 


12  IN   THE  B RAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

terprise,  yet  thou  hast  proven  thyself  a  man. 
Courage  !  We  shall  reach  Edinburgh  to  sup 
and  rest.  We  shall  "  — 

The  horse  made  a  misstep.  His  tired  rider 
was  off  his  guard,  sitting  carelessly.  He 
pitched  forward,  feU  heavily  over  the  ani- 
mal's head,  and  at  full  length  in  the  roadway. 
In  an  instant  Giles  was  upon  the  ground.  He 
knelt  beside  the  prostrate  figure  that  remained 
without  movement  or  word. 

"  Sir,  speak  to  me ! "  implored  the  boy. 
"  Tell  me,  are  you  sorely  hurt,  and  where  ? 
Oh,  what  shall  I  do?  what  shall  I  do?" 

Blood  streamed  down  the  man's  ghastly 
face  from  a  long  wound  under  his  curling 
hair.  Giles  wrung  his  hands,  looking  about 
him  to  search  the  landscape  for  a  sign  of 
help.  Since  they  left  Norhani  Castle  behind 
them  that  day,  they  had  met  few  fellow  way- 
farers. None  was  visible  now.  There  was 
no  habitation  in  sight.  He  felt  utterly  at  a 
loss. 

Without  the  slightest  warning,  Sir  Robert 
started  to  his  feet.  He  staggered  like  a 
drunken  man,  and  leaned  heavily  upon  his 
ward.  But  his  blood-stained  features  were 
set  in  determination. 

"  Help  me  to  mount,"  was  all  he  said. 


HOW  THE  NEWS  REACHED  HOLYROOD      13 

"  Oh,  sir,  you  cannot.  See  !  you  know  not 
how  you  are  hurt.  You  falter  "  — 

"  Help  me  to  mount." 

The  boy  shook  his  head  in  perplexity  and 
distress.  He  settled  his  guardian  in  the  sad- 
dle, and  handed  him  the  reins. 

"  You  cannot  hold  out,"  he  began,  despair- 
ingly. "  You  must  wait "  — 

"  I  tell  thee  I  will  not  wait !  Until  we  reach 
Holyrood  I  can  hold  out,  and  I  will." 

Five  hours  later,  the  guards  who  stood  be- 
fore the  king's  bedchamber  were  startled  by 
an  unwonted  sight.  A  travel-worn  stranger, 
white  as  death,  with  blood  upon  his  face, 
half  led  by  a  trembling  boy,  pushed  through 
their  ranks  imperiously. 

"  Make  way  for  word  from  London  ! "  he 
cried. 

He  thrust  back  their  protests.  He  was 
past  them,  dragging  his  ward  with  him. 
Again  Giles  entered  a  royal  presence. 

It  was  a  dreary  waste  of  room,  poorly  fur- 
nished, lighted  by  candles  that  betrayed,  it 
must  be  confessed,  no  little  dirt  as  well  as 
poverty.  In  a  high-backed,  richly  carved 
chair  sat  the  only  occupant  of  this  immense 
apartment.  He  was  dressed  in  a  thickly  wad- 
ded suit  of  hunters'-green  clothes  that  were 


14  J.V   THE  BRAVE  DAYS   OF  OLD 

the  worse  for  wear  and  not  scrupulously  clean. 
His  figure  was  tall  and  slender,  with  spin- 
dling legs  that  seemed  too  slight  to  support 
his  body.  His  eyes  were  prominent  and  star- 
ing. When  he  spoke,  it  was  hard  for  Giles 
to  understand  him,  so  Scotch  were  his  phrases 
and  so  indistinct  was  his  voice. 

Carey  threw  himself  on  his  knees  before 
him.  Seizing  one  hand,  he  pressed  it  to  his 
lips. 

"  Hail,  James,"  he  said,  "  King  of  England 
and  Scotland ! " 

"  Is 't  true  ?  Is 't  true,  mon  ?"  queried  his 
sovereign,  pulling  Carey  towards  him.  He 
looked  up  into  the  man's  face,  then  averted 
his  eyes  quickly,  patting  the  arm  he  grasped. 
"  Is 't  true,  then  ?  Is  she  deid  ?  " 

"  Your  gracious  Majesty,"  Carey  replied, 
"  it  is  quite  true." 

"How  dost  ken?" 

"  Lady  Scrope  flung  this  ring  "  —  he  held  it 
out  —  "  from  the  window,  as  we  had  agreed, 
for  a  token.  I  glanced  into  one  room,  at 
random.  The  women  were  all  weeping  to- 
gether. Then  I  took  horse  and  rode,  at 
once,  and  night  and  day,  to  you.  I  was  re- 
solved that  you  should  hear  this  from  no  one 
else,  ere  I  had  kept  my  word." 


HOW  THE  NEWS  REACHED  HOLY  ROOD      15 

"  Ay,  ay,"  James  nodded.  "  'T  was  well 
done.  Thou  hast  long  since  engaged  to  bring 
me  back  the  ring  when  Elizabeth  should  de- 
part hence.  When  was 't,  good  Carey  ?  " 

"  On  Thursday,  your  Majesty." 

"Thursday?"  His  dull  face  lighted  up. 
"  That  is  the  Tudor  day.  Henry  died  on 
Thursday,  and  Mary,  and  Edward,  and  now 
Elizabeth.  But,  Carey  "  —  he  gazed  wistfully 
at  the  other,  stroking  his  arm  more  coaxingly 
—  "  said  she  aught  of  me  ?  " 

Carey  was  prepared  for  this  question.  He 
beckoned  Giles  to  come  forward. 

"  This  lad,  an'  it  please  your  Majesty,"  he 
said,  "  can  tell  what  happened  at  the  death- 
bed, and  in  what  express  terms  her  Majesty's 
royal  cousin  was  named." 

Giles  was  a  handsome  little  fellow.  His 
rosy  cheeks  and  waving  chestnut  locks  com- 
mended him  to  a  monarch  partial  to  pretty 
boys.  The  king's  eyes  glittered  as  he  lis- 
tened to  the  story.  In  a  few  bashful  words 
that  scene  by  the  bedside  of  the  English 
Semiramis  was  described,  to  the  delight  of  the 
auditor.  James  hesitated.  This  was  the  hap- 
piest moment  of  his  life.  Yet  he  hated  to 
part  with  anything  that  belonged  to  him. 
Slowly  he  drew  from  his  finger  the  sapphire 


16  I.V    THE  BRAVE  DAYS   OF  OLD 

ring  Carey  had  brought  him  and  held  it  out 
to  Giles. 

"  Take  this,  bonny  wee  mon,"  said  he, 
"  and  tell  me  more  of  thee.  Who  art  thou, 
laddie?" 

"  Giles  Valentine,  your  Majesty.  My  father 
was  killed  in  the  Low  Countries.  My  mother 
is  Margaret  Valentine,  of  the  Grange  nigh 
Richmond." 

"  Art  a  good  son,  Giles  ?  " 

"  I  strive  to  be.  This  gentle  "  —  he  bowed 
to  Carey  —  "  is  my  guardian-  He  knows." 

"  He  is  the  best  of  lads,"  Carey  said  heart- 
ily. "  And  he  stood  this  fearful  ride  like  a 
hero." 

Possibly  the  speaker  was  not  averse  from 
reminding  the  king  what  a  ride  it  had  been. 
But  James  shunned  the  subject,  as  he  shunned 
the  sight  of  Carey's  wound.  Blood  was  mor- 
bidly abhorrent  to  him,  and  the  thought  of 
obligation  was  none  too  strong. 

"  Gave  thy  mother  permission  that  thou 
shouldst  do  this  thing  ?  "  he  inquired  sharply 
of  Giles  in  his  thick-tongued  Scotch. 

"  Your  Majesty,  I  had  no  time  to  ask  it. 
My  guardian  bade  me,  and  I  came.  He  sent 
word  to  my  home  that  I  was  with  him,  and 
safe.  It  was  the  best  that  I  could  do." 


HOW  THE  NEWS  REACHED  HOLYROOD   17 

"And  why  bring  the  lad?"  asked  the 
king. 

Carey  explained.  He  wished  an  eyewit- 
ness of  Elizabeth's  design,  and  he  felt  that 

O      ' 

the  message  he  carried  was  too  valuable  to 
trust  to  one  person,  with  the  accidents  that 
might  befall. 

"  We  have  a  good  son,"  said  the  Scotch 
king,  breaking  in  on  Sir  Robert's  speech, 
and  addressing  Giles.  "  We  have  two  lad- 
dies. Thou  shalt  see  Baby  Charles.  But 
Prince  Henry  —  Ah,  he  is  my  heart's  jewel ! 
—  he  is  with  the  Earl  of  Mar.  Some  day, 
wee  mon,  some  day,  long,  long  to  come,  he 
shall  rule  over  thee  and  thine,  shall  our  son, 
as  Henry  the  Ninth." 

He  started  from  his  chair.  "  Ring  the 
bell,  ring  the  bell !  "  he  cried  imperiously  to 
Carey.  "  And  begone,  good  sirs.  I  love  ye 
kindly.  I  —  I  shall  not  forget  ye.  But  now 
I  must  see  my  queen.  We  shall  put  ye  in  the 
care  of  those,"  he  glanced  askance  at  Carey's 
face,  "  who  will  tend  to  your  injuries." 

Thus  dismissed,  Giles  and  his  guardian 
backed  themselves  from  the  presence. 

Carey  was  immediately  seized  upon  by  a 
group  of  courtiers,  who  guessed  his  errand 
and  were  desirous  of  hearing  the  particulars. 


18      JN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

Giles  was  addressed  by  a  youth  some  years 
his  elder,  clad  in  shabby  and  outgrown  cloth- 
ing. His  thin  features  had  a  ferret-like  ex- 
pression. His  small  eyes  were  sly.  He  linked 
their  arms  together,  introducing  himself  as  a 
fellow  countryman  of  the  name  of  George 
Earl.  He  led  Giles  into  the  dining-hall, 
throwing  aside  a  threadbare  curtain  of  tar- 
nished gold,  and  ushering  his  companion  to 
the  welcome  sight  of  a  spread  table. 

Giles  made  a  hearty  meal  of  the  coarse 
food,  while  George  plied  him  with  questions. 
He  not  only  soon  learned  the  two  messengers' 
tidings,  but  also  what  Giles  could  tell  him  of 
his  family  and  himself.  The  proudest  fact 
in  the  boy's  short  life  was  soon  related :  — 

"  My  father  was  with  the  Lord  High  Ad- 
miral on  the  Triumph.  He  fought  in  the 
Channel  against  the  Armada  of  Spain." 

George  gave  a  little  cry  of  surprised  admi- 
ration. Giles  thrust  one  hand  beneath  his 
vest  and  unbuckled  the  belt  he  always  wore 
under  it  about  his  waist.  George's  small  eyes 
twinkled  covetously,  as  he  watched  the  other 
turn  the  pocket  of  soft  leather  inside  out,  and 
the  tiny  heap  of  coins  that  fell  jingling  to 
the  board.  Among  them  was  a  medal. 

"It   was    struck   in   Holland,"    explained 


HOW  THE  NEWS  REACHED  HOLYEOOD      19 

Giles,  pushing  it  forward.  "  On  one  side 
thou  seest  Philip's  ships  in  order.  Then  there 
is  the  date,  1588,  and  the  motto,  '  Flavit  et 
dissipati  sunt.' ' 

"  What  is  the  reverse  ? "  asked  George, 
weighing  the  medal  in  his  palm. 

"  The  church  on  a  rock,  surrounded  by 
stormy  waves,"  Giles  answered.  "  And  the 
motto,  l  Allidor  non  Laedor.'  I  value  that 
medal  next  to  my  father's  sword." 

He  opened  his  lips  to  point  out  to  George 
the  initials  A.V.  scratched  lightly  in  the  sail 
of  one  of  the  engraved  ships.  At  that  mo- 
ment they  were  interrupted  by  Carey. 

Official  word  had  arrived,  he  said,  from 
London.  They  themselves  had  not  many 
hours'  start  of  this  courier,  who  was  raging  to 
find  that  Elizabeth's  death  was  already  known. 
King  James  intended  to  bid  farewell  to  his 
people  in  the  church.  All  the  court  were  to 
attend  that  service  on  Sunday. 

Giles  felt  deeply  the  impressiveness  of  the 
scene.  James,  with  Anne  of  Denmark  by  his 
side,  stood  in  his  place  surrounded  by  weep- 
ing folk  who  pressed  forward  to  touch  his 
hand.  It  was  like  a  father's  leave-taking  from 
his  children.  There  was  something  homely 
about  it,  presenting  a  worthier  view  of  the 


20  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

often  misjudged  man  who  was  England's  new 
ruler. 

In  about  ten  days  he  left  Edinburgh  for 
the  border.  Again  a  curious  picture  was  pre- 
sented to  the  onlooker.  In  the  streets,  a 
gaping  crowd  about  him,  the  king  kissed  his 
wife  and  bade  her  good-by  for  a  season. 
She  was  to  follow  with  their  children  a  few 
weeks  later. 

George  had  struck  up  a  rather  cne-sided 
friendship  with  the  Englishmen  who  were  to 
make  part  of  James's  train.  While  the  two 
lads  rode  side  by  side  together,  he  was  voluble 
in  his  joy  that  his  face  was  turned  homeward 
again.  "  I  came  to  Holyrood,"  he  explained, 
"  a  year  since  with  my  uncle.  I  have  pined 
for  Warwick  each  day  of  that  year.  Wist 
thou,  Giles,  that  Archie  was  mine  uncle  ?  " 

Archie  was  the  court  fool. 

"  Nay,"  said  Giles,  marveling  that  George 
spoke  as  if  this  were  some  honor.  "  Thou 
hast  told  me  naught  of  it." 

He  felt  vaguely  that  he  should  be  kinder 
to  George  for  this  discovery.  When  they 
made  their  first  halt  at  night,  the  younger 
men  and  boys  were  quartered,  after  the  rud- 
est fashion,  in  outhouses,  sleeping  upon  piles 
of  straw  or  their  own  cloaks.  Giles  would 


HOW  THE  NEWS  REACHED  HOLYEOOD     21 

have  preferred  biding  by  his  guardian,  or, 
since  that  could  not  be,  by  some  one  of  the 
steadier  young  Scotchmen.  Still  he  would 
not  hurt  George  by  any  avoidance,  and  George 
kept  close  to  him. 

The  morning  dawned  raw  and  gloomy. 
Giles  rose  betimes,  that  he  might  bathe  and 
dress  before  the  others.  He  felt  at  once  that 
his  belt  was  loosely  hanging  at  his  side.  He 
ran  his  fingers  along  its  surface.  It  was  ex- 
actly as  he  feared. 

The  pocket  was  empty.  His  money  and 
medal  were  gone. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE   HOUSE    ON   THE   MOOR 

CAREY  did  not  give  his  ward  much  sym- 
pathy when  Giles  found  him  out  to  tell  him 
of  his  loss. 

"'Tis  of  no  avail  trying  to  trace  it,"  he 
said,  "among  all  these  strangers.  In  time 
thou  mayst  discover  the  medal.  I  do  not 
wish  to  raise  a  hue  and  cry  with  the  Scotch- 
men. They  have  no  love  for  us  as  it  is.  It 
would  go  hard  with  thee,  I  fear  me,  shouldst 
thou  accuse  them  of  theft." 

Giles  looked  very  sober.  "I  know  not 
what  my  mother  will  say,"  quoth  he,  "  when 
I  return  to  her  without  the  medal." 

"  It  may  come  to  light  ere  this  progress  is 
done,"  Carey  suggested.  "  Cheer  thee,  lad. 
There  are  worse  losses  than  thine.  What 
thinkst  thou  his  Majesty  announced  but 
now?" 

Giles  had  no  idea. 

"  He  has  given  thee  nothing  for  thy  ride 
to  him.  Nothing,  Giles.  For  me,  I  am  to 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  MOOR  23 

be  gentleman  of  the  bedchamber.  A  fine 
office,  forsooth  !  Gentleman  of  the  bedcham- 
ber for  all  my  reward  !  " 

The  boy  began  to  speak. 

"  Hush,"  whispered  Carey,  busying  himself 
about  the  harness  of  his  horse.  "  Say  no- 
thing. Yon  comes  young  Earl.  I  trust  not 
that  fox-faced  varlet.  Men  tell  me  that 
Archie  the  fool  coveted  this  new  post  of 
mine,  poor  though  it  be,  for  George's  brother 
in  the  Mid-Counties." 

George  hung  about  the  younger  boy  per- 
sistently, in  this  long  drawn-out  Southern 
journey.  Giles  had  no  less  suspicion  of  him 
than  his  guardian  felt.  He  endeavored  to 
shun  George  whenever  he  could  quietly  do 
so.  Sometimes  he  felt  that  his  schemes  for 
avoidance  were  guessed  and  resented. 

The  monotonous  round  of  country  gayety 
and  entertainment  was  drawing  to  a  close. 
They  had  entered  upon  the  last  half  of  the 
tour.  One  afternoon  of  a  mild  spring  day 
Giles  found  himself  riding  alone,  having  fallen 
behind  the  train  of  horsemen.  Twilight  was 

o 

closing  in.  They  were  to  stop  for  the  night, 
he  knew,  with  a  gentleman  called  Sir  Oliver 
Cromwell.  Giles  jogged  slowly  along  the 
rough  road,  absorbed  in  thought :  of  the  odd 


24  IN  THE  BRAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

life  he  was  leading,  of  bis  recent  loss,  of  his 
mother,  his  little  sister  Meg,  of  Jan,  and  what 
he  might  be  doing. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  tremendous  crash. 
His  horse  stumbled,  pitching  upon  his  knees. 
Giles  was  thrown  violently  over  his  head.  He 
fell,  apparently,  from  a  considerable  height. 
Confused  ideas  rushed  through  his  mind. 
Then  everything  became  black  before  him, 
and  he  knew  nothing  more. 

When  the  boy  recovered  consciousness,  it 
was  in  the  dusk  of  the  long  afterglow.  About 
him  stretched  what  looked  like  an  unending 
black  wall.  He  gazed  up  a  distance  of  ten 
or  twelve  feet  before  he  could  see  the  branches 
of  trees  etched  against  the  clear  sky. 

He  felt  each  limb  cautiously,  putting  his 
hand  to  his  head.  There  was  no  wound  any- 
where. When  he  finally  staggered  to  his 
feet,  he  saw  that,  shaken  though  he  was,  no 
bones  were  broken  by  the  fall.  He  was  evi- 
dently in  a  deep  pit.  Doubtless,  his  horse 
had  wandered  from  the  track ;  he,  busy  with 
recollections  of  home,  had  not  noticed  this. 
The  hole  was  some  rude  excavation,  common 
in  that  rough  country,  and  a  serious  sort  of 
mantrap  when  the  captured  had  no  comrade 
at  liberty  to  extricate  him. 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  MOOR  25 

Giles  seated  himself  again,  to  think  over 
calmly  what  was  to  be  done.  His  riderless 
steed  might  never  find  the  others.  In  a 
strange  land,  it  would  be  curious  if  he  chanced 
to  fall  in  with  the  king's  men,  or  be  recog- 
nized by  any  one.  Carey  would  miss  his 
charge  in  time,  although  not,  very  possibly, 
until  several  days  had  gone  by,  and  until  the 
company  were  far  advanced  upon  their  way 
again.  He  saw  little  of  the  boy,  during  these 
interrupted  times  of  constant  change.  None 
of  the  others  would  be  interested  to  institute 
a  search  for  him,  unless  George  Earl  should 
do  so.  And  Giles  had  his  doubts  of  George's 
friendship. 

No,  it  was  manifest  that  there  was  no  re- 
liance to  be  placed  upon  any  outside  help. 
He  must  try  to  save  himself,  or  —  Giles  did 
not  like  to  dwell  upon  the  alternative.  He 
might  linger  here,  in  this  dismal  hole, 
scorched  by  the  sun,  beaten  upon  by  the 
rain,  whipped  by  the  winds,  till,  worn  out  by 
exposure  and  the  torture  of  hunger  and 
thirst,  he  died,  and  his  bones  were  found,  at 
some  distant  hour,  to  tell  the  tale,  if  aught 
remained  for  recognition,  to  his  mother  and 
little  Meg. 

Yet   all   about  him  the  dark  walls   rose, 


26      IN  THE  BRAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

sheer,  without  a  break.  It  was  like  a  shal- 
low well.  There  was  no  foothold  anywhere 
by  which  he  could  scramble  even  part  way 
towards  the  surface  of  the  ground. 

What  should  he  do? 

After  carefully  examining  the  pit,  Giles 
began  to  consider  its  outer  resources.  On 
the  brink  of  the  descent  was  a  stout  sapling. 
It  was  thus  temptingly  close  at  hand,  and 
yet  far  away,  at  least  six  feet  from  the  out- 
stretched fingers  of  the  boy  when  standing 
on  tiptoe.  It  would  give  a  support  to  a  pul- 
ley, he  mused,  looking  up  at  it  longingly. 
Ah,  he  had  an  inspiration ! 

Unwinding  the  long,  silken  sash  from  about 
his  waist,  he  tore  it  lengthwise  in  two.  It 
was  stout,  requiring  his  dirk  to  cut  it,  but 
he  was  glad  of  this,  for  it  showed  the  strength 
of  the  stuff.  There  were  a  few  loose  stones 
upon  the  rocky  bottom  of  the  pit.  He  tied 
one  of  these  within  the  fringe  of  his  sash. 
Aided  by  the  clearness  of  the  light,  and  by 
the  rising  moon,  he  began  his  efforts  to  es- 
cape. 

Over  and  over  again  he  made  the  attempt, 
throwing  the  loaded,  improvised  rope,  so  that 
one  end  should  surround  the  tree  trunk  and 
fall  back  within  the  hole,  while  he  still  held 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  MOOR  27 

the  other  in  his  left  hand.  Over  and  over  he 
failed,  until,  if  the  experiment  had  not  been 
so  desperate,  he  should  have  given  it  up  in 
despair.  This  was  life  or  death,  so  Giles 
put  forth  another  effort,  and  another,  and 
another. 

Sometimes  the  silken  sling  fell  far  short  of 
the  tree.  Sometimes  it  went  around  it,  as 
it  should,  but  did  not  return  to  him  in  his 
prison.  He  tried  again  and  again,  his  arm 
aching  and  his  sight  failing  from  excessive 
fatigue. 

It  was  a  desperate,  not  a  deliberate  aim 
that  finally  achieved  what  he  had  so  long  at- 
tempted in  vain.  Almost  at  random  Giles 
made  a  careless  fling.  To  his  astonishment 
there  fell  at  his  feet  the  entangled  end  of  silk 
while  its  middle  encircled  the  tree  trunk.  He 
had  a  ladder  ready  to  his  hand. 

He  tied  the  two  pieces  together,  pulling 
hard  upon  them.  They  stood  the  strain  per- 
fectly, and  the  sapling,  though  it  swayed,  was 
strong.  Hand  over  hand  Giles  pulled  himself 
up  the  rock.  He  was  bruised  against  it.  The 
young  tree  shook,  and  jarred  him  with  its 
trembling.  The  distance  was  slight,  after  all. 
It  was  the  work  of  a  few  moments  to  climb 
out  from  this  treacherous  spot.  With  a  sen- 


28  IN   THE  BRAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

sation  of  intense  thankfulness,  Giles  felt  the 
grass  brush  his  cheek.  He  drew  up  his  knees, 
and  his  feet  touched  the  earth.  He  was  safe. 

He  left  the  sash  dangling  upon  the  tree. 
Perhaps  it  would  serve  for  a  danger  signal 
for  some  other  traveler.  And  here  the  ques- 
tion confronted  him,  Where  should  he  find 
shelter  for  the  night  ?  AU  about  him  lay  a 
bleak  expanse  of  waste  land.  Darkness  was 
settling  down  upon  the  dreary  scene,  only 
relieved  by  the  crescent  moon.  Far  as  the 
eye  could  see  there  was  no  sign  of  human  be- 
ing or  of  house.  He  walked  forward  at  a 
venture,  stumbling  towards  what  he  thought 
was  the  direction  of  the  road,  straining  his 
sight  to  catch  the  glimmer  of  a  light  through 
the  deepening  gloom. 

Was  that  a  spark  or  a  tiny  star  low  on  the 
horizon  ?  No.  Yes.  It  was  a  distant  flicker 
of  fire  or  candle,  and  it  meant  some  compan- 
ionship, at  least. 

On  and  on  Giles  ran  towards  that  point  of 
light,  quickening  his  steps  when  the  hunger 
he  was  beginning  to  feel  pricked  him  for- 
ward, slowing  his  pace  when  his  tired  feet 
refused  to  keep  up  longer.  It  seemed  hours 
before  the  light  grew  more  distinct.  By  and 
by  it  resolved  itself  into  a  glow  that  came  from 


THE  HOUSE  ON   THE  MOOR  29 

one  side  of  a  long,  low  building.  He  was 
approaching  some  sort  of  house.  He  was 
impressed  by  the  meanness  of  the  surround- 
ings, the  unkempt  ground,  the  tumbled-down 
aspect  of  the  thatched  hut,  —  for  it  was  no- 
thing more,  —  while  he  drew  close  to  the  win- 
dow and  peered  within. 

A  bit  of  oiled  paper  answered  the  purpose 
of  a  pane.  The  rickety  shutter  hung  half  off. 
Inside  the  room  into  which  Giles  looked 
sat  a  beetle-browed,  cadaverous  man,  clad  in 
rusty  finery,  brooding  over  the  fire,  the  only 
light  in  the  room.  A  saddle  of  rich  work- 
manship lay  upon  the  mud  floor.  A  broken 
chair  or  two,  a  stool  for  a  table,  seemed  to 
comprise  the  furniture.  Upon  the  stool  sat 
a  flagon  and  the  remains  of  a  meat  pasty. 
Towards  this  last  Giles  gazed  lovingly.  He 
stole  around  to  the  door  and  knocked. 

"  Who  is  there  ?  "  called  a  gruff  voice. 

"  One  Giles  Valentine,"  answered  the  boy. 
"  A  lad  from  the  king's  retinue  who  has  lost 
his  way  and  craves  a  night's  lodging." 

There  was  an  exclamation  of  surprise.  A 
bolt  slipped,  the  door  opened  upon  the  crack. 
The  beetle-browed  man  looked  out. 

"  Art  alone,  then  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  Alone,  good  sir,  and  lost." 


30  IN   TUE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

"  Enter,"  was  the  churlish  invitation. 

Giles  squeezed  through  the  narrow  open- 
ing, his  host  still  holding  the  door.  He 
walked  into  the  house. 

"What's  this  tale  of  thine?"  said  the 
man,  bolting  the  entrance  again,  and  looking 
the  boy  over  from  head  to  foot. 

Giles  related  his  mishap  in  detail.  When 
he  had  finished,  the  man  waved  one  hand 
towards  the  table.  "  There  canst  thou  eat," 
said  he.  "  And  there,"  he  pointed  to  a  pallet 
covered  with  a  riding^cloak  in  the  obscurity 
of  a  corner,  "  there  canst  thou  pass  the 
night." 

This  surly  hospitality  was  thankfully  re- 
ceived. Giles  refreshed  himself,  while  his 
host,  reseated  by  the  fire,  so  far  unbent  as  to 
question  him  minutely  in  regard  to  the  royal 
progress.  Such  interest  was  so  natural  that 
Giles  felt  no  hesitancy  in  telling  him  whatever 
he  wanted  to  know. 

He  was  dead  tired  and  soon  craved  permis- 
sion to  seek  the  bed.  The  man,  he  fancied, 
rather  hiirried  him  into  it.  In  spite  of  his 
fatigue  there  was  something  in  the  situation 
that  kept  the  boy  from  sleep.  Yet  he  saw 
the  man  by  the  fire  cast  so  many  sharp  glances 
towards  his  corner  that  he  soon  shut  his  eyes, 


THE  HOUSE  ON   THE  MOOR  31 

breathing  slowly  and  heavily,  to  see  what 
would  come  of  this. 

He  heard  a  sigh  of  relief.  Very  soon  he 
detected  a  light  tap  upon  the  window.  The 
man  heard  it  too.  He  sprang  up,  and,  mov- 
ing on  tiptoe,  stole  softly  outside  the  house. 
Giles  could  catch  the  murmur  of  conversation. 
Presently  the  man  returned  and  the  door  was 
secured.  There  was  a  subdued  tinkle  and 
jingle,  as  of  coins  carefully  handled.  He 
dared  not  open  his  eyes. 

A  hushed  silence  followed.  He  could  hear 
the  crackle  of  the  fire  and  the  squeaking  of 
the  rickety  chair.  A  loud  noise  broke  the 
stillness  :  the  trample  of  horses'  feet,  a  pound- 
ing upon  the  door.  Giles  leaped  from  the 
bed,  the  man  from  his  chair. 

"  Open  in  the  king's  name  !  " 

The  man  dragged  himself  slowly  to  the 
door.  He  moved  the  bolt  and  it  flew  back 
from  without.  A  mob  fell  into  the  room. 
Giles  recognized  them  all.  Carey  was  among 
their  number.  The  foremost  placed  one  hand 
upon  the  arm  of  his  host. 

"  John  Simon,"  he  said,  "  thou  art  my 
prisoner." 

It  was  all  over  in  an  instant.  The  boy 
found  himself  at  his  guardian's  side.  Before 


32  IN  » THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

them  on  the  stool  lay  an  open  wallet,  from 
which  a  few  coins  had  fallen.  Carey  picked 
up  one,  looked  at  it,  and  again  more  sharply. 

He  handed  it  to  Giles.  "  Here,  lad,"  he  said, 
"  however  thou  earnest  here,  thou  wert  upon 
the  track  of  thine  own.  See  this." 

It  was  the  Dutch  medal. 


CHAPTER  IV 

KING    JAMES    PASSES   SENTENCE 

GILES  could  only  look  his  astonishment  at 
his  guardian. 

"  Who  is  he  ?  "  he  inquired,  while  they  were 
swept  with  the  crowd  outside  of  the  room. 
"  Why  is  he  apprehended?  " 

Sir  Robert  caught  his  bridle  from  a  wait- 
ing groom.  "  Thou  canst  ride  with  me,"  he 
said.  "  Here,  step  on  the  stirrup  and  clasp  me 
round  the  waist.  As  we  go  thou  shalt  tell 
me  how  thou  cam'st  in  that  den  of  thieves. 
Afterwards  I  will  give  thee  the  history  of 
what  has  happed  since  I  saw  thee  last  at  day- 
break." 

Giles  accordingly  mounted  behind  his  guar- 
dian. He  related  his  adventures  in  all  haste, 
so  eager  was  he  to  hear  the  other's  story. 
Carey,  too,  made  quick  work  of  his  news. 
For  some  days  different  members  of  the  royal 
train  had  been  complaining  of  losses.  Money 
and  jewels  —  such  money  and  such  jewels  as 
the  poor  Scots  possessed  —  had  been  stolen. 


34  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

Last  night  the  growing  agitation  over  this  mys- 
terious pilfering  had  in  some  fashion  reached 
the  king's  ears.  He  declared  that  the  thief 
must  be  found,  and  must  be  made  an  exam- 
ple. A  few  hours  since,  two  courtiers  were 
stopped  and  robbed  while  riding  by  themselves 
along  a  lonely  bit  of  road.  Their  description 
of  the  offender  identified  him  with  a  notori- 
ous highwayman,  to  Sir  Oliver  Cromwell's 
mind.  It  was  guessed  that  this  Simon  might 
have  been  following  the  company  for  the  past 
week,  and  might  be  the  scoundrel  whose  in- 
iquities could  now  be  brought  home  to  him. 

"  Thy  medal  will  go  far  to  convict  him," 
Sir  Robert  observed. 

"  Oh,  sir,  must  it  be  so  ?  "  Giles  grew  pale. 
"  'T  was  pilfered  ere  we  left  Scotland  "  — 

"  Surely,"  said  his  guardian  in  amazement, 
"  thou  wouldst  not  shield  the  fellow  ?  " 

"  'T  is  not  that ;  but  he  gave  me  shelter 
when  I  was  in  need.  I  would  not  be  the  one 
to  harm  him  in  return." 

"  Hush  thy  folly,"  was  the  stern  response. 
"Justice  waits  not  on  thy  concerns.  Leave 
this  in  my  hands.  And  here  we  are  at 
Huntingdon." 

A  massive  pile  rose  before  them  in  the 
moonlight.  The  house  stood  in  the  midst  of 


KING  JAMES  PASSES  SENTENCE  35 

an  irregularly  laid-out  park,  where  sheep  and 
horses  grazed  by  day  among  the  trees,  with 
which  the  meadow-land  was  sprinkled. 

As  Giles  slid  from  the  horse  to  the  ground, 
a  hand  came  out  of  the  darkness  and  seized 
his  arm.  He  was  dragged  away  from  his 
guardian,  away  from  the  group  about  the 
doorway,  into  the  deeper  shadow  of  an  im- 
mense cedar. 

"  Spy  I "  a  hoarse  voice  hissed  in  his  ear. 
"  Thou  cowardly  spy  !  " 

"  Who  calls  me  spy  ?  "  cried  the  boy  indig- 
nantly. "He  who  hides  in  the  gloom  and 
draws  me  from  the  presence  of  witnesses  ? 
Does  he  call  me  coward  and  spy  ?  " 

"  I  tell  thee  thou  art  a  cur."  Now  he  knew 
it  for  the  utterance  of  George  Earl,  though 
it  shook  with  passionate  anger.  "  Thou  art  a 
cur.  Thou  hast  sought  out  one  who  was  good 
to  thee,  only  that  thou  mightest  lead  these 
human  bloodhounds  there.  Thou  hast  cause 
to  be  proud  of  thy  work,  Giles  Valentine  !  " 

"  Giles  Valentine  !  "  called  some  one,  like 
an  echo. 

Both  lads  started  and  looked  whence  the 
sound  came.  A  man  stood  in  the  open  door- 
way of  the  great  house,  his  figure  outlined 
against  the  light  that  streamed  from  within. 


36  I.V   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

"  Giles  Valentine,"  he  cried.  "  The  king 
hath  need  of  Giles  Valentine." 

With  a  heavy  heart  the  reluctant  witness 
came  forward  to  the  steps.  He  paid  no  heed 
to  George,  whom  he  heard  following  close 
behind.  Up  the  broad  entrance-way  went  the 
twain,  past  the  man  at  the  door,  and  so  inside 
the  hall. 

It  was  a  superb  apartment  which  lay  before 
them.  The  hall  was  some  forty-five  feet  long, 
with  height  and  breadth  in  proportion.  A 
monstrous  fire  burned  in  the  chimney  oppo- 
site them.  The  dark  wall  was  hung  with 
gloomy  portraits.  A  winding,  enormously 
broad  staircase  led  to  the  gallery  above. 

Before  the  fire,  upon  a  sort  of  dais,  sat 
King  James  in  a  chair  hung  with  tapestry. 
Beside  the  platform  was  stationed  the  master 
of  the  house,  a  large-framed,  strong-featured 
man,  who  held  a  little  boy  by  the  hand.  The 
prisoner  stood  before  them,  and  a  clerk  who 
was  taking  notes  of  a  witness's  evidence. 

When  it  pleased  him  to  lay  aside  his  state, 
James  the  First  was  the  most  familiar  of  mon- 
archs.  He  looked  up  at  Giles's  entrance,  nod- 
ding affably  to  him. 

"  Here  is  our  bonny  mon,"  quoth  he. 
"  Come,  Giles,  laddie,  and  tell  us  thy  story. 


KING  JAMES  PASSES  SENTENCE  37 

Sir  Robert  says  that  thou  hast  evidence  to 
hang  yon  wretch." 

Giles  sickened  at  the  words,  which  the  sul- 
len prisoner,  in  an  attitude  of  obstinate  pride, 
affected  not  to  hear.  The  boy's  white  face 
and  anxious  eyes  attracted  the  attention  of 
the  small  son  of  the  house.  He  pulled  him- 
self away  from  Sir  Oliver  to  run  to  Giles. 

"  Poor  lad,"  he  said.  "  Has  the  naughty 
king  frighted  thee  ?  I  '11  tell  my  father  to 
chide  him,  an'  thou  sayest  the  word." 

There  was  a  broad  laugh,  led  by  the  easy- 
going sovereign. 

"  Well  spoken,  my  brave  young  Oliver," 
he  exclaimed.  "  Thou  hast  a  spirit  beyond 
thy  years.  Would  that  our  Charles,"  and  he 
sighed,  "  who  must  be  nigh  as  old  as  thee, 
had  thy  vigor  and  thy  mind." 

More  than  forty  years  afterwards,  when 
Giles  Valentine  was  growing  to  be  an  old 
man,  the  death  of  Charles  recalled  to  his  mind 
those  words  of  King  James.  He  thought  how 
little  his  Majesty  guessed  that  he  was  speak- 
ing to  one  who  was  to  be  instrumental  in 
destroying  that  dear  son  of  his. 

"  Come  hither  to  me,  laddie,"  called  James. 
"  Look  at  this  mass  of  stuff."  He  indicated 
a  pile  of  money  and  trinkets  on  the  table 


38  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

between  him  and  Sir  Oliver.  "  Kenst  thou 
aught  of  these  ?  " 

Giles  took  his  courage  in  both  hands.  He 
sank  on  his  knees  at  the  platform's  edge. 

"  May  it  please  your  Majesty,"  he  began, 
"  the  man  gave  me  food  and  lodging  this 
night.  Must  I  return  his  kindness  with  such 
foul  ingratitude  ?  " 

"  Good  Giles,"  said  King  James  earnestly, 
"  when  public  ends  are  to  be  served,  private 
matters  must  not  be  weighed  against  them. 
Majesty  has  learned  that  lesson,  —  and  't  is 
bitter  hard,  my  mon,  —  as  all  must  learn  it 
some  time  who  come  in  contact  with  public 
doings.  We  are  parts  of  a  whole,  laddie,  —  I 
and  thou  alike.  Consider  the  whole  and  not 
the  part.  And  now  tell  us  if  thou  seest 
aught  familiar  in  this  collection,  and  if  thou 
canst  identify  it  without  handling  or  coming 

nearer." 

• 

"Yon  Dutch  medal,"  said  Giles  slowly, 
pointing  while  he  spoke,  "  I  think  to  be  mine, 
and  so  shall  know  it  by  one  sign.  'T  was  my 
father's.  He  scratched  the  letters  A.  V.  in 
the  farther  sail  upon  the  right  of  the  fleet." 

The  king  examined  the  coin,  handing  it 
afterwards  to  Sir  Oliver.  The  latter  bowed 
gravely. 


KING  JAMES  PASSES  SENTENCE  39 

"  Now  tell  us,"  James  continued  in  the 
same  gentle  tone,  "  where  thou  lost  thy  token, 
and  when." 

Giles  did  so.  His  beseeching  glance  made 
the  king  inquire  his  further  wish. 

"  May  I  go  now,  your  Majesty  ?  "  he  asked. 
"  Am  I  needed  longer  ?  " 

He  was  stifling,  his  head  whirling,  and  his 
heart  beating  fiercely.  It  was  impossible  to 
tarry  here  in  the  glare  of  light  and  heat,  to 
hear  the  man  who  had  befriended  him  doomed 
to  punishment,  no  matter  how  deserved. 

James  gave  his  permission,  seeing  how  ill 
the  boy  looked,  and  perhaps  fearing  a  com- 
plete breakdown.  Suffering  of  any  sort  was 
always  shunned  by  this  Stuart. 

Giles  pushed  through  the  throng  to  the 
stairway.  He  had  some  notion  of  seeking 
Sir  Robert,  who  was  not  in  the  hall,  and  of 
hiding  himself  for  the  remainder  of  the  night 
from  sight  or  sound.  Little  Oliver  again  ran 
after  him,  grasping  him  by  the  coat.  His 
father  had  given  him  directions  in  a  hasty 
aside.  The  child  —  he  was  not  yet  five  years 
old  —  had  a  manly  expression  upon  his  small, 
ugly  face. 

"  I  '11  show  thee  where  thou  art  to  sleep," 
he  said,  leading  the  way  up  the  stairs.  "  I  '11 


40  IN  THE  BRAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

take  thee  to  the  turret-room  and  make  thee 
snug.  Grieve  not,  good  boy.  Naught  can 
harm  thee  whilst  thou  art  with  me." 

Giles  smiled  sadly  at  the  brag.  Leaning 
over  the  railing,  gaping  down  at  the  commo- 
tion below,  was  Archie,  the  court  fool.  He 
straightened  himself  and  glared  at  the  ap- 
proaching pair.  His  deep-set  eyes  were  wild 
with  rage. 

"  Thou  shalt  pay  dear  for  thy  medal !  "  he 
muttered  while  they  passed. 

What  could  it  all  mean,  thought  Giles,  — 
this  intense  interest  shown  by  George  and 
Archie  in  the  fate  of  a  common  thief  ?  Why 
their  fury  against  him  for  the  unwilling  part 
he  had  been  obliged  to  play  ? 

Little  Oliver  kept  his  word.  He  found  his 
guest  a  comfortable  bed  upon  the  floor  of 
an  antechamber.  "  Within  there,"  said  he, 
pointing  to  a  larger  room,  "  Sir  Robert  Carey 
sleeps.  So  my  father  bade  me  tell  thee. 
Thou  shalt  be  near  thy  friend.  And  now, 
good-night  to  thee ;  good-night  and  pleasant 
dreams." 

This  was  a  mockery,  however  well  it  was 
meant.  Giles  tossed  upon  his  lowly  couch 
the  whole  night  long,  seeking  some  respite 
from  the  tormenting  remembrance  of  his  tes- 


KING  JAMES  PASSES  SENTENCE  41 

timony,  of  its  probable  consequences,  and  of 
the  ill-will  sbown  him  by  so  powerful  an  en- 
emy as  the  king's  jester  and  prime  favorite. 

With  the  first  streak  of  dawn  he  was  upon 
his  feet.  Making  a  hasty  toilet,  he  noiselessly 
left  the  room  and  sought  egress  from  the 
house,  feeling  that  the  sweet,  keen  spring  air 
of  out  of  doors  might  drive  away  the  blinding 
ache  of  his  head,  the  result  of  a  wakeful 
night  and  the  accompaniment  to  an  aching 
heart. 

He  threaded  his  course  through  many 
winding  passages,  by  countless  closed  doors, 
to  the  great  staircase  which  led  down  to  the 
hall.  Here  a  sleepy  servant  was  just  kind- 
ling the  fire.  He  let  the  boy  out  of  the 
door,  with  much  clanking  of  bolt  and  chain. 

Giles  stood  for  a  moment,  his  hand  to  his 
head,  upon  the  step,  uncertain  which  path  to 
take  for  his  stroll  in  the  park.  Something 
caught  his  eye :  a  figure  lying  face  down- 
ward in  the  grass.  He  ran  towards  it. 

George  Earl  lifted  a  tear-stained  face  to 
meet  his  pitying  gaze.  With  a  scream  of 
aversion  he  jumped  to  his  full  height. 

"  Dost  thou  dare  approach  me  ?  "  he  cried 
shrilly.  "  Thou  viper  !  Away  !  Away,  and 
rue  the  day  thou  thus  repaid  my  brother's 


42  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

offer  of  a  roof  to  thee,  0  thou  hound  of  mis- 
chief ! " 

"Thy  brother?"  gasped  Giles,  a  light 
breaking  in  upon  him. 

"  Yes,  wretch,  my  only  brother,  known  by 
many  names  besides  our  father's.  Hast  come 
to  gloat  upon  thy  deed  ?  Look  there  !  " 

His  shaking  hand  was  uplifted  towards  the 
woods  back  of  the  house.  Giles  wheeled 
about  mechanically  in  the  same  direction.  A 
horrid  sight  was  thus  revealed. 

The  trees,  in  their  earliest  dress  of  green, 
stood  out  against  the  sunrise.  From  a  branch 
of  an  old  oak-tree,  in  the  pitiless  light,  was 
dangling  the  body  of  a  man.  They  had 
hanged  John  Earl  who  called  himself  John 
Simon,  to  show  how  the  new  king  was  minded 
to  deal  with  miscreants  such  as  he. 


CHAPTER  V 

KIDNAPED 

IT  was  useless  to  say  a  word  to  George. 
He  only  became  the  more  infuriated  with  any 
effort  towards  sympathy  or  explanation.  At 
the  attempt  he  broke  into  horrible  threats,  of 
which  Giles  would  have  made  light,  had  it 
not  been  for  the  recollection  of  Archie's 
malevolent  salutation  of  the  night  before. 

It  was  best  to  lay  the  whole  affair  before 
Sir  Robert's  superior  judgment,  the  boy  con- 
sidered, and  bent  his  steps  towards  the  house 
once  more. 

That  worthy  gave  a  prolonged  whistle  when 
Giles  had  sought  him  out  in  his  room.  "  The 
fool  is,  in  truth,  a  formidable  foe,"  he  observed 
ruefully.  "  Be  on  thy  guard,  lad,  and  watch. 
Thou  mayst  receive,  on  the  sudden,  a  signal 
to  be  gone." 

He  pondered  the  matter  while  he  was 
dressing. 

"  Great  festivities  are  preparing  for  to-day," 
he  said.  "  There  is  to  be  one  of  those  hunt- 


44  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

ing  parties,  in  which  his  Majesty  delights. 
Presents  will  be  offered  him,  and  the  peasantry 
round  about  will  fling  up  the  cap  and  shout 
for  the  king.  We  have  become  wonted  to 
the  particulars  of  a  progress,  have  we  not? 
They  say  Sir  Oliver  is  to  outdo  all  our  other 
hosts.  'T  will  be  hard  in  the  bustle  and  hurry 
to  find  time  to  lay  out  a  course  of  action. 
And  yet "  —  Sir  Robert  laid  down  the  sword 
he  was  buckling  at  his  side,  and  glanced  ap- 
prehensively toward  his  ward.  He  would  not 
say  the  words,  yet  Giles  understood  his  fur- 
ther thought :  the  busy,  noisy  day  would  be 
the  time  of  times  for  the  carrying  out  of  a 
private  grudge.  How  should  he  guard  the 
boy? 

Whenever  it  proved  possible,  they  kept 
side  by  side  throughout  the  morning.  Sir 
Robert,  who  was  more  alarmed  for  Giles  than 
Giles  was  for  himself,  did  not  allow  his  ward 
to  go  out  of  his  sight.  A  banquet  took  up 
part  of  the  day,  —  a  meal  of  which  one  feature 
awakened  the  admiration  of  even  these  much- 
entertained  Scotchmen.  Two  roasted  boars 
stood  in  the  middle  of  the  table,  harnessed  to 
a  mammoth  plum  pudding  that  had  been 
made  in  the  form  of  a  wagon. 

A  presentation  of  gifts  followed  the  feast, 


KIDNAPED  45 

after  which  the  hunt  was  announced  to  take 
place  in  the  park.  Giles's  horse  had  been 
traced  and  recovered  since  the  previous  day. 
He  ran  to  the  stables  to  see  to  its  preparation. 
His  courage  asserted  itself.  His  natural  high 
spirits  were  rising ;  subdued  though  he  felt  by 
the  highwayman's  fate,  he  was  now  disposed 
to  make  sport  of  his  relatives'  revenge. 

A  groom  hastened  down  from  the  house 
behind  him,  the  steed  he  was  leading  trotting 
briskly. 

"  Is 't  Master  Valentine  ?  "  asked  the  man. 

"  Yes,"  said  Giles. 

"  This  is  for  you,  then." 

He  handed  him  a  feather. 

Stout  though  the  boy's  heart  was,  it  stopped 
in  its  regular  beat  at  the  sight  of  this  symbol. 
He  understood  its  significance  well  It  meant 
flight. 

"  Whence  came  this  token  ?  "  he  demanded 
abruptly. 

The  servant  scratched  his  head,  a  dull, 
hopeless  expression  crossing  his  face. 

"  I  know  not  the  gentles,"  he  began  slowly. 
"  How  can  I  tell  who  it  might  be  ?  'T  was  a 
fine,  gay  sir,  in  a  velvet  coat,  the  very  color 
of  an  oak  leaf  in  November." 

Sir  Robert  had  been  dressed  in  that  rich 


46  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

red-brown  to-day,  but  so  had  others  of  the 
train,  —  Archie,  Giles  quickly  recalled,  with 
the  rest. 

"  A  tall,  dark  man  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  Yes.  No.  Upon  my  honor,  sir,  I  can- 
not say.  I  marked  him  not." 

Was  it  a  true  warning,  or  was  it  a  trap  ? 
In  the  first  event  every  moment  was  precious. 

"  Sent  he  aught  of  message  ?  "  he  finally 
asked. 

"  Good  young  sir,  forgive  me.  Yes.  He 
said  you  were  to  wait  for  him  at  the  postern 
gate,  and  he  would  tell  you  more." 

Giles  must  risk  all,  then.  He  must  speed 
to  the  appointed  place,  and  see  what  came  of 
the  meeting. 

The  man  led  out  his  horse.  "I  shall  be 
prepared,"  he  thought.  "  Neither  friend  nor 
foe  shall  take  me  by  surprise." 

It  was  a  weary  time  —  so  it  appeared  to 
his  agitated  mind  —  that  he  paced  Brown 
Bess  up  and  down  before  the  wicket ;  under 
the  trees,  out  into  the  sun,  back  to  the  shadow 
again,  and  so  under  the  trees. 

A  low  whistle  echoed  through  the  woods. 
Involuntarily  Giles  turned  his  head  in  the 
direction  of  the  sound.  Like  a  flash  of  light- 
ning some  one  clutched  him  from  behind  and 


KIDNAPED  47 

dragged  him  from  the  saddle.  He  struggled 
vainly.  His  limbs  were  tightly  pinioned. 
He  was  thrown  to  the  ground.  A  huge  bag 
was  drawn  over  his  head.  He  felt  himself 
lifted  between  two  persons,  who  caught  him 
by  the  shoulders  and  the  feet.  He  was  placed 
upon  a  horse's  back,  roughly  bound  to  the 
saddle,  and  there  followed  the  racking  motion 
of  the  animal  urged  to  a  brisk  canter. 

Nothing  was  said.  Everything  was  done 
in  perfect  stillness.  Giles  could  hear  the 
quick  beat  of  horse's  hoofs  beside  the  one  he 
rode.  When  his  ear  became  accustomed  to 
the  sounds,  he  felt  certain  that  he  had  two 
attendants,  one  upon  each  side,  either  of 
whom  placed  a  hand  upon  him  from  time 
to  time,  to  steady  the  swaying  sack  which 
held  him  imprisoned.  His  head  was  raised 
against  the  pommel  so  high  that  there  was  no 
rush  of  blood.  His  brain  was  calm,  despite 
the  anguish  he  suffered  in  his  uncomfortable 
position.  His  thoughts  flew  here  and  there 
like  frightened  birds. 

He  had  no  doubt  that  his  captors  were 
Archie  and  George.  He  resigned  himself  to 
inevitable  torture,  such  as  their  hatred  could 
devise.  And  would  they  dare  to  kill  him  ? 

He  was  by  no  means  sure  of  this.     He  was, 


48 

in  a  sense,  under  the  protection  of  King 
James.  His  guardian  was  of  the  royal  house- 
hold. Yet  whatever  they  could  do,  —  those 
enemies  of  his,  —  that,  he  knew,  would  be 
tried. 

It  was  not  long,  although  it  seemed  an 
age,  before  his  doubts  were  changed  to  cer- 
tainty. His  horse  was  pulled  to  a  halt.  The 
straps  that  bound  him  to  it  were  loosened. 
The  sack  was  lifted  to  the  ground.  He  was 
once  more  picked  up,  carried  a  few  steps,  and 
then —  He  was  thrown  from  the  height  of 
several  feet,  and  fell  upon  a  bed  of  rock  and 
stones.  For  an  instant  the  agony  was  ex- 
treme, but  the  quick-witted  boy  realized  that 
no  bones  were  broken,  and  the  cuts  and 
bruises,  he  speedily  reflected,  were  nothing  in 
comparison  with  the  fate  which  might  have 
met  him  at  those  cruel  hands.  He  heard  the 
horses  in  retreat.  He  waited  and  waited 
for  any  other  sound.  No.  It  was  evident 
that  he  had  been  left  alone. 

The  full  intention  of  the  plot  burst  upon 
him.  The  whole  had  been  cunningly  devised. 
He  never  could  accuse  the  jester  and  his 
nephew  of  the  attack.  He  had  neither  seen 
them  nor  heard  them  speak.  Nothing  could 
be  traced  to  them.  They  had  forsaken  him 


KIDNAPED  49 

here,  in  some  out  of  the  way  hole,  so  bound 
that  he  could  not  help  himself,  beyond  the 
help  of  others,  to  a  lingering  death,  such  as 
the  most  exquisite  enmity  might  deliberately 
devise. 

But  was  he  past  his  own  help?  He  twisted 
and  wriggled  like  an  eel.  The  bag  was  so 
large  that  it  did  not  confine  his  movements. 
The  bands  about  his  arms  had  been  too  hur- 
riedly secured  to  make  them  perfect  in  their 
hold.  The  jar  of  the  fall,  too,  had  loosened 
them  a  trifle.  Giles  pulled  his  wrists  up  and 
down,  encouraged  by  every  trace  of  progress, 
till,  after  a  long,  long  time,  he  triumphantly 
jerked  one  hand  through  the  loop.  It  was 
a  simple  thing  to  cut  the  sacking  away  with 
his  knife  from  about  his  head,  and  to  free 
his  ankles.  He  sat  up,  gazing  inquisitively 
around  him. 

He  lay  down  again  on  his  stony  bed,  and 
laughed,  —  laughed  till  the  hollow  rocks 
resounded  with  his  merriment.  They  had 
thrown  him  into  the  very  pit  from  which  he 
had  clambered  not  twenty-four  hours  ago. 

"  What  I  have  done  once,  I  can  assuredly 
do  again,"  thought  he. 

He  did  not  wear  a  sash  to-day,  and  that 
he  had  left,  hanging  to  the  tree,  was  gone. 


50  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

The  rope  that  had  been  wound  about  him,  and 
about  the  bag,  would  do  as  well.  He  made  a 
sling  of  a  bit  of  the  sacking,  tying  one  end  of 
the  cord  to  another,  and  a  stone  into  the  sling. 
It  was  a  neat  piece  of  work,  not  to  be  hurried. 
The  sun  was  still  high,  and  Giles  wrought 
cheerfully  at  his  task.  The  tree  was  not  so 
hard  to  reach  now,  when  he  was  less  nervous, 
and  surer  that  he  should  succeed.  After  a 
half-dozen  futile  efforts,  the  sling  flew  around 
its  trunk.  It  fell  into  the  pit,  and  he 
gathered  it  into  his  grasp,  with  the  other 
end  of  the  rope.  He  was  badly  cut  in  many 
places  by  his  fall.  He  paid  no  heed  to  his 
injuries.  Up  the  rope  he  went  like  a  mon- 
key. Once  more  he  stood  on  the  brink  of 
the  hole,  looking  about  him.  Afar  in  the 
distance,  the  only  house  in  sight,  the  one 
landmark,  was  the  highwayman's  hut.  He 
was  loth  to  visit  it,  yet  he  knew  no  other 
refuge. 

It  was  growing  dusk  when  he  reached  the 
place.  A  piteous  whinny  came  from  a  tum- 
ble-down shed  in  the  rear  of  the  larger  build- 
ing. 

"  They  carried  away  the  man,"  Giles  ex- 
claimed, "  and  forgot  to  take  his  horse.  The 
very  thing  for  me  !  Archie  and  George  have 


KIDNAPED  51 

mine  ;  this  is  fair  exchange  for  it,  if  I  capture 
what  should  be  George's  —  as  his  brother's 
heir.  I  will  send  it  back  to  him  when  I  reach 
home.  How  surprised  he  will  be  to  receive  it 
with  my  message." 

He  let  the  poor  beast  out  of  the  stable  after 
giving  it  water  and  food.  He  brought  forth 
the  saddle  he  found  in  the  house  and  har- 
nessed the  animal,  evidently  a  fine  one,  used 
to  travel. 

"  We  shall  go  far  to-night,"  he  said,  strok- 
ing the  horse's  sleek  sides.  "  Wilt  thou  carry 
me  to  my  mother,  and  to  little  Meg  ?  " 

He  was  beginning  to  suffer  from  his  long 
fast,  but  he  could  touch  nothing  from  John 
Earl's  house.  He  wheeled  the  impatient  steed 
about,  looked  for  some  sign  of  the  road,  and 
then  he  thought :  — 

"  I  will  leave  it  to  the  horse.  He  can  lead 
me,  for  he  knows  his  master's  haunts.  He 
shall  take  me  where  he  will." 

Giles's  fixed  determination  was  to  seek  his 
home  at  once.  He  would  not  run  the  chances 
of  another  encounter  with  the  jester.  He  was 
confident  that  his  guardian  would  guess  the 
cause  of  his  absence  and  soften  any  displea- 
sure of  the  king's.  He  could  send  word  to  Sir 
Robert  from  Richmond.  Meanwhile  he  had 


52  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

some  money  in  his  belt,  —  enough  to  keep  him- 
self and  the  horse. 

Faithfully  did  the  highwayman's  thorough- 
bred justify  his  rider's  trust.  They  speedily 
struck  into  such  rough  tracks  as  were  reck- 
oned then  a  tolerable  sort  of  road.  Mile  by 
mile  they  went  at  a  steady,  rapid  pace,  and 
did  not  draw  rein  until  Bedford  was  reached 
that  night.  Here  they  remained  until  an 
early  hour  of  the  morning.  Then,  refreshed 
and  eager,  they  took  the  road  again.  On  and 
on,  to  stop  for  food,  or  to  give  the  noble 
beast  the  rest  he  never  craved.  The  time 
went  in  an  unvarying  succession  of  such  brief 
pauses,  and  of  hard  riding  through  St.  Al- 
ban's,  Watford,  and  Brentford,  till  Richmond 
came  in  sight. 

Giles's  eyes  grew  moist  as  he  guided  his 
horse  into  the  well-known  lane.  Here  was 
the  copse  where  he  found  a  bird's-nest  full 
of  twittering  young  ones  once.  Here  was  the 
blackberry  tangle  where  he  had  gathered  the 
fruit  last  summer  with  Jan  and  his  pretty  sis- 
ter Annemie,  and  with  little  Meg  in  her  scar- 
let cloak.  Here  was  the  home-field ;  there 
were  the  cows  grazing  beside  the  river.  He 
stood  in  his  stirrups  and  gave  a  lusty  halloo. 
It  was  more  than  a  month  since  he  had  left 


KIDNAPED  53 

home ;  its  chimneys  were  just  rising  above  the 
woods. 

As  if  his  shout  had  called  him,  a  boy's  fig- 
ure came  into  sight  at  the  moment  from 
behind  the  hedgerow.  Giles  gave  another 
cry,  for  it  was  Jan. 

"  Is  it  really  Giles  ?  "  exclaimed  the  page 
in  French.  "  My  dear  friend,  where  do  you 
come  from  ?  " 

He  gripped  the  other  by  the  hand. 

"  Welcome  !  "  he  said,  "  thrice  welcome.  I 
never  was  so  glad  to  see  you.  And,  Giles," 
—  he  drew  closer  still  to  the  horse's  side,  pla- 
cing one  hand  on  the  pommel ;  he  hesitated 
for  a  second,  —  "have  you  heard  gossip  of 
anything  wrong  ?  "  he  asked. 


CHAPTER  VI 

IN    THE    OAK   ROOM 

GILES'S  brown  cheek  grew  white.  "  My 
mother?"  he  gasped. 

"  No,  no  !  Nothing  is  wrong  with  Madame 
Valentine ;  nor  with  your  sister.  This  is  a 
public  matter  that  I  would  speak  of." 

Giles  remembered  the  king's  words  to  him, 
in  the  hall  at  Huntingdon,  of  those  who  come 
in  contact  with  public  affairs.  It  was  strange, 
he  thought,  how  he,  until  a  few  weeks  ago, 
a  home-abiding,  quietly  living  boy,  had  been 
dragged  of  late  into  the  doings  of  the  Eng- 
lish nation. 

He  flung  himself  from  his  horse,  drawing 
one  arm  through  the  bridle. 

"  We  can  walk  together  towards  the  house," 
he  said ;  "  on  the  way  you  can  tell  me  your 
meaning.  First  of  all,  though,  Jan,  how  came 
you  here  ?  " 

"  That  is  soon  explained.  When  her  gra- 
cious Majesty  died,  your  good  mother  sent  for 
me.  She  said  that  I  must  wait  at  the  Grange 


IN   THE  OAK  ROOM  55 

for  word  from  my  uncle  in  France  as  to  what 
is  to  become  qf  me.  Nothing  has  been  heard 
as  yet,  so  I  linger  on  here.  I  am  content,  you 
may  suppose,  with  my  pleasant  life ;  yet  I  wish 
I  knew  what  I  am  to  do  later  on.  Madame 
Valentine  is  kindness  itself,  now  as  always, 
to  the  son  of  her  husband's  old  friend  and 
comrade-in-arms." 

"  Yes,  she  loves  you  now  for  yourself. 
Before  your  uncle  brought  you  here,  she  was 
desirous  of  seeing  the  face  of  Wilhelm  Ver- 
rooy's  only  son,  —  he  who,  it  chanced,  was  the 
one  to  hear  my  father's  last  messages  before 
he  died  in  those  far  Netherlands." 

Giles's  voice  broke  at  the  remembrance  of 
the  dark  days  when  that  sad  intelligence  was 
received  at  the  Grange.  Jan  caught  hold  of 
his  arm  in  a  sympathizing  pressure.  "  And 
now  to  what  you  had  to  tell  me,"  the  young 
Englishman  went  on. 

Jan  wrinkled  his  forehead  in  doubt.  "  I 
don't  know  how  to  put  it.  Any  words  may 
seem  in  excess  of  the  facts.  But,  Giles,  I  am 
beginning  to  fear  that  all  is  not  right  with 
Master  Wentworth." 

"My  tutor?" 

"  Yes.  You  remember  how  silent  and 
reserved  he  is?  I  suspect  something  more 


56      IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

now  than  silence  and  reserve  behind  that  long 
visage  of  his.  I  believe  him  to  be  involved 
in  a  plot  against  the  king." 

"  A  plot  against  his  Majesty  ?  Oh,  surely 
not  already ! " 

"  Hush  !  speak  lower.  The  hedgerows  may 
have  ears.  Yes,  that  there  is  a  plot  on  foot 
I  am  confident.  It  may  be  that  he  is  inno- 
cent in  the  matter ;  but  he  is  altogether  too 
friendly  with  one  William  Watson,  who,  I 
vow,  is  deep  in  some  such  scheme." 

"  Such  scheme  as  what  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  know  nothing  certainly.  I 
mistrust  it  to  be  a  plan  to  kidnap  his  Majesty. 
Watson  visits  your  tutor  often,  and  they  hold 
secret  conferences  by  the  hour.  Mine  is  the 
oak  room,  you  know,  next  to  Master  Went- 
worth's.  There  are  deep  wardrobes  between 
the  two.  Of  late  I  have  played  the  spy. 
Though  I  have  only  suspicion  so  far,  I  have 
built  up  a  theory  on  broken  sentences  these 
two  have  let  fall  for  me  to  overhear." 

Giles  looked,  as  he  felt,  deeply  perplexed. 
"  Is  nothing  clear  enough  to  go  upon  ?  " 

"  No  ;  there 's  the  trouble.  We  cannot 
accuse  any  man,  let  alone  a  member  of  your 
household,  on  what  I  have  so  far  heard. 
Giles,  we  must  hear  more  !  " 


IN  THE  OAK  BOOM  57 

"  I  loathe  this  eavesdropping !  "  broke  im- 
patiently from  the  other. 

Jan  drew  himself  up  haughtily.  "  Do  you 
think  it  is  congenial  employment  for  me  ? 
Still  I  would  lower  myself  farther  than  that 
to  save  your  mother  from  the  scandal  that 
would  arise  if  it  were  found  some  day 
that  conspirators,  in  even  the  most  abortive 
of  plots,  had  been  harbored  underneath  her 
roof." 

"  Yes,  yes !  "  said  Giles  hastily.  "  Forgive 
me,  Jan  ;  I  meant  nothing  against  your  honor. 
We  could  not  afford  to  lose  any  chance  to 
discover  what  might  harm  the  king,  or  yet 
be  hurtful  to  this  home  of  mine.  We  must 
watch  Master  Wentworth ;  I  see  that  clearly." 

He  shuddered  at  the  recollection  of  what 
the  consequences  might  be  —  not  to  James,  for 
he  had  small  opinion  of  his  tutor's  schemes, 
but  to  his  gentle  mother  —  should  anything 
come  to  Archie's  knowledge  that  could  be 
turned  against  the  Valentine  household. 

They  were  drawing  near  to  the  house.  A 
tall,  slender  lady,  in  her  black  hood  and  veil, 
was  strolling  up  and  down  across  the  bowling 
green.  A  little  maiden  played  beside  her, 
tossing  her  chestnut  curls  back,  the  better  to 
see  whom  Jan  was  conducting  to  them.  She 


58      IN  THE  BRAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

gave  another  look  from  her  bright  dark  eyes. 
She  uttered  a  scream  of  pleasure. 

"  0  mother,  mother,  look ! "  she  called. 
«'T is  Giles,  our  Giles!" 

She  was  across  the  drawbridge  and  racing 
through  the  park  like  a  whirlwind.  Giles 
had  never  known  so  happy  a  moment  as  that 
in  which  he  was  clasped  once  more  in  those 
dear  arms,  and  felt  his  sister  clinging  to  his 
hand.  A  stifling  sob  rose  in  his  throat.  He 

O 

remembered  all  Jan  had  hinted.  He  resolved : 
"  I  would  stoop  —  yes,  to  the  level  of  a  spy  — 
to  save  these  two  from  harm !  " 

Master  Wentworth  appeared  after  they  were 
seated  at  the  supper  ordered  for  the  traveler. 
He  said  little,  —  he  never  said  much,  —  but 
Giles  was  on  his  guard,  and  noticed  how  at- 
tentively he  listened  to  every  tiniest  piece 
of  information  which  was  given  in  reply  to 
Meg's  countless  questions  relative  to  the  king. 
The  boy  was  careful  in  what  he  answered. 
It  was  natural  that  all  of  his  small  audience 
should  wish  to  hear  the  details  of  his  career 
at  court.  After  they  had  separated  for  the 
night,  Jan  came  to  his  room  to  say  that  he 
would  keep  up  his  watch. 

"  And  if  I  hear  what  makes  me  sure  of 
mischief,  I  shall  come  to  you.  Then  you  can 


IN   THE  OAK  ROOM  59 

listen  yourself  or  not.  I  shall  throw  the 
responsibility  into  your  hands." 

Time  went  on.  They  heard  of  the  king  at 
Theobald's,  where  Cecil  entertained  him  mag- 
nificently, and  where  he  arranged  his  new 
privy  council.  Sixty-two  titles  of  nobility 
were  conferred.  Wentworth  told,  without 
other  comment  than  a  sly  smile,  of  a  paper 
found  fastened  to  the  door  of  St.  Paul's, 
offering  lessons  in  the  titles  of  the  new 
nobles. 

Then  came  word  of  the  festivities  at  Stam- 
ford Hill.  Here  the  royal  train  was  met  by 
the  mayor  and  aldermen.  A  stag  hunt,  en- 
joyed by  his  Majesty  above  all  things,  had 
been  so  arranged  that  he  should  be  conducted 
by  it  to  the  Charterhouse.  From  thence  he 
proceeded  to  the  Tower  and  Whitehall.  His 
wife  and  two  children  —  "  Baby  Charles " 
being  too  sickly  to  stand  the  journey  —  were 
twenty  days  behind  him  upon  the  road.  He 
sent  clothes  and  jewels  from  Elizabeth's  col- 
lection to  Berwick  for  the  new  queen,  who 
was  entertained  at  many  country-houses  along 
her  route  ;  at  Althorpe,  by  a  masque  written 
by  Ben  Jonson.  Finally  news  was  received 
of  the  arrival  at  Windsor  of  her  Majesty, 
Prince  Henry,  and  her  daughter  Elizabeth. 


60  IN  THE  BRAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

One  morning  Giles  and  Jan  went  to  court 
to  see  the  reception  of  the  Baron  of  Rosny,  — 
afterwards  famous  in  French  history  as  Sully, 
—  who  came  from  Henry  of  Navarre.  Little 
Meg  was  vastly  entertained  with  their  account 
of  the  gifts  he  brought :  a  superbly  capari- 
soned horse  for  the  king,  a  Venetian  mirror 
set  in  gold  and  diamonds  to  the  queen,  and 
for  Prince  Henry  a  gold  lance  and  a  jeweled 
helmet.  Though  he  had  said  nothing  in 
advance  of  his  intention,  it  turned  out  that 
Master  Wentworth  was  also  present  on  this 
occasion.  He  related  a  speech  which  some 
one  had  overheard  a  Scotch  courtier  make 
respecting  the  new  ruler  of  England. 

"  Did  ye  ever  see  a  jackanapes,  mon  ?  If 
so,  ye  must  ken  that  if  ye  hauld  him  in  your 
hand  ye  can  gar  him  bite  me ;  but  if  I  hauld 
him,  I  can  gar  him  bite  ye." 

This  had  been  uttered  in  relation  to  the 
forthcoming  treaty  with  France.  Giles,  how- 
ever, applied  it  to  himself  and  Archie,  ques- 
tioning whether  the  jester  might  not  soon 
have  his  opportunity. 

Two  days  later,  when  they  went  up  the 
broad  stairway  together,  Jan  drew  his  friend 
in  the  direction  of  his  own  room. 

"  Come  watch  with  me  to-night,"  he  said  ; 


IN   THE  OAK  ROOM  61 

"  I  saw  Watson  enter  the  house  as  we  came 
out  from  supper.  I  believe  there  will  be  mis- 
chief brewed  before  he  leaves  it." 

"  If  we  must,  we  must,"  Giles  answered 
reluctantly.  "  I  dare  scarcely  tread.  If  they 
hear  me  with  you,  they  may  guess  our  plans 
and  be  too  sly  for  us." 

Jan  gave  a  little,  noiseless  laugh.  "  The 
tutor  has  no  fear  of  me  alone.  He  thinks  I 
cannot  understand  English,  because  French  is 
what  I  speak.  I  so  soon  found  that  it  was 
wise  to  have  that  advantage  of  him,  that  I 
have  never  enlightened  the  good  sir.  Enter 
on  tiptoe.  Stand  motionless  until  I  make  all 
secure  and  bid  you  stir  again." 

He  bolted  the  door  and  moved  rather 
noisily  around  the  room,  dragging  a  heavy 
chest  forward,  letting  the  fire-irons  fall,  and, 
under  cover  of  this,  motioning  to  Giles  to 
steal  forward  to  the  dividing  wall  and  slide 
behind  the  tapestry  into  a  wardrobe's  recess. 

Jan  removed  his  riding-boots  with  another 
thump  upon  the  floor.  With  lightest  step  he 
crept  across  the  Turkey  rug  to  a  position 
beside  his  friend.  They  pressed  closely 
against  the  crevice  Jan's  quick  eyes  had  de- 
tected. The  murmur  of  conversation  came 
from  the  next  room. 


62  IN   THE  BEAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

"What  says  Sir  Griffin  Markkam?"  in- 
quired Wentworth. 

"He  is  ready  for  the  kidnaping.  He 
thinks  the  times  propitious.  This  intelligence, 
methinks,  will  deter  even  his  foolhardiness." 

"  You  call  him  foolhardy  ?  " 

"  He  would  risk  all.  There  were  rumors 
that  the  guard  of  armed  gentlemen  that  slept 
at  Greenwich  had  been  increased,  yet  he  took 
no  steps  to  find  the  truth  of  the  tale.  Ay,  I 
call  him  foolhardy,  man." 

The  boys  had  by  no  means  caught  every 
word  of  this  talk.  The  last  sentence  or  two 
came  louder,  in  Watson's  excitement. 

"  What  is  to  be  done  ?  "  Master  Wentworth 
asked. 

"  I  have  seen  Lord  Grey  to-day,  and  put 
the  same  question  to  him.  He  says  that  we 
must  postpone  the  attempt  till  later,  when  our 
Scotch  king  goes  to  hunt  at  Hanworth." 

Some  further  talk  took  place,  but  nothing 
more  was  disclosed.  All  appeared  to  relate 
to  the  story  which  had  been  already  told. 
The  two  listeners,  stiffened  with  their  strained 
posture,  crept  out  into  the  room. 

"  Come  with  me,"  Giles  whispered.  "  To- 
gether we  can  discuss  what  shall  be  done." 

They  stole  to  the  door,  slid  back  the  bolt, 


IN   THE  OAK  BOOM  63 

and  glided  softly  along  the  passage  to  the 
safer  precincts  of  Giles's  own  quarters.  Once 
here,  they  stood  and  faced  each  other,  an 
exclamation  of  horror  passing  from  one  to 
another. 

"  Your  guardian  !  "  Jan  began. 

"  How  can  I  tell  him  ?  "  Giles  interrupted 
"  It  might  entangle  him  —  for  he  has  a  cun- 
ning enemy  at  court  —  in  the  affairs  of  this 
house.  We  must  get  rid  of  Master  Went- 
worth  without  delay.  Yet  I  cannot  denounce 
him,  Jan." 

"  Nor  I.  Heartily  though  I  dislike  the 
man,  shocked  as  I  am  to  hear  this  of  him,  I 
could  not  bring  him  to  the  block." 

"  My  Lord  Grey  is  a  person  of  influence," 
Giles  said  doubtfully,  at  length.  "  How  would 
it  do  to  send  him  tidings  instantly  that  the 
plot  is  known  ?  I  hate  an  anonymous  letter, 
no  less  than  the  deed  we  have  been  forced 
into  this  night.  But  it  may  pull  us  out  of 
our  present  difficulty.  They  could  not  act 
without  Wilton,  and  he  would  tell  the  rest 
when  he  received  the  warning." 

Jan  thought  well,  on  the  whole,  of  this 
proposal.  There  was  no  sleep  for  the  friends 
that  night.  They  spent  the  long  hours  in 
concocting  the  sentences  necessary  in  telling 


64  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

enough,  yet  not  too  much,  —  in  so  disguising 
the  script  as  to  conceal  its  authorship,  and 
possibly  to  thus  enhance  the  authority  of  its 
words. 

In  the  early  light,  Giles  disappeared  from 
the  house.  His  colleague  was  to  explain  his 
absence  without  arousing  suspicion.  When 
he  reappeared,  the  family  were  assembled  on 
the  green,  watching  the  feats  of  horseman- 
ship with  which  Jan  was  amusing  Meg. 

There  were  exclamations  and  inquiries.  In 
the  midst  of  them,  Giles  stole  a  look  at  his 
friend  which  was  received  and  understood. 
The  warning  had  been  given. 

Preparations  were  making  for  the  coro- 
nation. In  spite  of  the  plague,  which  was 
raging  in  London,  the  Valentine  household 
looked  forward  "to  viewing  what  the  public 
might  see  of  this  august  event.  About  three 
weeks  beforehand,  one  morning,  Giles  entered 
the  library  for  his  usual  Latin  reading.  His 
tutor  was  striding  up  and  down  the  room, 
wringing  his  hands  and  sobbing  like  a  child. 
Tears  streamed  down  his  stern,  set  face. 

"  What  is  wrong  ?  "  asked  the  boy,  eyeing 
him  in  amazement. 

"  All  is  lost ! "  Wentworth  cried. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 


IN  THE  OAK  ROOM  65 

Giles's  sharp  tone  was  intended  to  recall 
him  to  himself.  He  passed  one  hand  con- 
fusedly across  his  forehead.  "I  have  had 
dire  intelligence,"  said  he. 

"Of  what?" 

"  It  seems,  although  it  was  none  of  my  de- 
vising, there  has  been  a  plot  hatched  to  carry 
off  his  Majesty.  He  was  to  be  kept  in  confine- 
ment till  he  made  certain  concessions.  If  he 
refused,  the  Lady  Arabella  Stuart  was  to  be 
raised  to  the  throne.  I  swear  I  knew  naught 
of  the  rogues'  doings,  yet  some  of  them  were 
my  best  friends.  The  foul  thing  was  planned 
for  the  Hanworth  hunt,  last  month.  Lord 
Grey  postponed  it  then,  and  now  Watson  — 
thou  hast  seen  Watson  here  ?  —  has  told  the 
whole  to  one  priest  Gerard.  He  must  needs 
carry  it  to  Cecil.  Right  and  left,  men  have 
been  apprehended  and  thrown  into  prison  "  — 

"  Watson,  too  ?  "  Giles  inquired. 

"  Watson,  too.  But  I  am  innocent,  lad ! 
Thou  knowest  that  I  am  innocent  ?  " 

Giles's  only  answer  to  this  assertion  was  a 
hint  that  it  might  be  as  well,  in  any  case,  to 
betray  less  agitation,  and  no  sympathy  with 
the  conspirators.  Master  Wentworth  thanked 
him  almost  servilely  for  the  suggestion. 

Jan  opened  the  door  and  interrupted  them. 


66  IN   THE  BRAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

"I  have  come  for  my  task,"  said  he. 
"  Giles,  you  must  ask  our  good  master  to 
excuse  you.  You  have  a  visitor." 

"A  visitor?" 

"  Yes.  It  is  a  young  sir  from  court.  He 
gave  his  name  as  George  Earl." 


CHAPTER  VII 

FROM    THE    TOWER    TO    WINCHESTER 

GEORGE  EARL  came  forward  very  jauntily 
to  meet  his  young  host.  He  had  been  stand- 
ing- in  the  deep  bay  of  the  wainscoted  morn- 
ing-room. The  sneer  with  which  he  had 
looked  out  upon  the  moat  and  the  meadow 
still  lingered  on  his  lips.  Giles  thought  he 
was  gloating  over  the  destruction  of  this 
happy  home. 

He  bowed  gravely  to  the  intruder,  not  ex- 
tending his  hand. 

"Art  surprised  to  see  me  here?"  inquired 
his  guest.  "  I  am  come  to  thank  thee  for  the 
safe  return  of  my  —  of  my  horse."  A  quiver 
of  pain,  at  the  recollection  of  whose  steed  it 
had  been,  crossed  his  thin  face.  Giles  was 
sorry,  for  the  moment,  for  him. 

"  Perhaps  I  should  apologize,"  he  said 
coolly,  making  no  motion  towards  a  seat  for 
himself,  nor  for  young  Earl,  "  for  borrowing 
that  gallant  beast.  I  could  not  crave  thy 
permission  when  we  parted  upon  the  moor." 


68  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

George  grew  red.     "  I  fail  to  understand  " 

—  he  began. 

"  No  matter.  Hast  other  errand,  may  I 
inquire  ?  " 

A  sly  glance  crept  into  the  ferret  eyes. 
"  Thou  seemst  almost  to  expect  it.  Ay,  have 
I.  I  come  with  tidings  to  thy  good  friend  — 
what  name  hath  he  ?  Oh,  Wentworth,  Ralph 
Wentworth,  I  trow.  Mayhap  thou  wilt  break 
to  hun  that  his  colleague,  William  Watson, 
hath  been  taken  to  the  Tower." 

Giles  raised  his  eyebrows.  "  Tidings  have 
but  now  reached  us  of  the  conspiracy,  and  of 
the  arrest.  Why  thy  solicitude  for  Master 
Wentworth?" 

George  could  not  admit  his  real  motive, 

—  that  he  came  here  in  hopes  to  detect  some- 
thing amiss  to  carry  with  him  back  to  court, 
now  that  the  air  was  rife  with  surmises.     "  I 
thought  to  warn  thee,"  he  answered  boldly, 
"that  thy  name  hath  been  mentioned  more 
than  once  this  day  in  connection  with   thy 
tutor,  and  his  friends,  who  have  conceived 
this  scheme  of  kidnaping  his  Majesty." 

"  Thou  hast  not  as  yet  explained  thy  inter- 
est in  me  and  my  instructor,"  Giles  replied ; 
"nor  how  the  fact  that  he  was  known  to 
William  Watson  should  bring  him  into  the 


FROM  THE  TOWER   TO   WINCHESTER        69 

affair.  But,  if  thy  conscience  is  discharged 
of  its  duty,  I  shall  be  so  inhospitable  as  to 
bid  thee  good-morrow,  Master  Earl." 

He  bowed  low  in  mock  courtesy.  George's 
eyes  glittered  dangerously.  "Not  so  fast," 
he  said.  "I  have  some  queries  to  put  to 
thee.  Thine  own  share  in  this  plot ;  it  may 
be"  — 

A  door  opened  behind  them. 

"  Giles,"  said  a  gentle  voice,  "  thy  guest, 
—  will  he  not  break  his  fast  with  us  ?  " 

The  boys  turned  in  the  direction  of  the 
sound.  Mistress  Valentine  stood  on  the  thresh- 
old, her  sweet,  pale  face  framed  in  the  time- 
stained  oak.  She  extended  one  hand  frankly. 

"I  am  rejoiced  to  meet,  under  my  roof, 
any  friend  of  my  son's,"  she  said. 

Giles  felt  as  if  he  must  step  between  George 
Earl  and  that  dear  figure,  innocent  of  harm, 
knowing  nothing  of  what  this  new-comer  had 
done  in  the  past,  nor  what  was  his  errand 
now.  Even  George's  malignity  was  not  proof 
against  the  lady's  serene  unconsciousness.  He 
sank  on  one  knee,  kissed  her  fingers,  and 
then,  muttering  some  excuse,  he  hurried  from 
the  room. 

Giles  brushed  unceremoniously  past  his 
mother,  fixed  in  her  surprise  at  this  curious 


70  IN  THE  BRAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

conduct,  and  followed  George  to  the  hall. 
He  would  not  betray  anything  like  cowardice. 
George  stood  still  for  an  instant  to  say :  — 

"  I  could  not  break  her  bread.  No  !  Nor 
would  I  harm  her,  when  she  spoke  thus  to 
me!  Butthou"  — 

A  glare  of  hatred  was  sufficient  finish  to 
the  sentence. 

Giles  bowed  low  once  more.  "We  shall 
meet  again,"  he  said.  And  neither  boy 
guessed  when  nor  how  that  meeting  should 
come  to  pass. 

All  sorts  of  rumors  flew  about,  in  those 
next  few  weeks  before  St.  James's  Day,  when 
the  coronation  took  place.  Watson,  with  his 
accomplices,  made  many  so-called  confessions. 
None,  happily,  implicated  Master  Wentworth, 
who  was  recommended  to  take  a  journey  to 
his  home  in  Yorkshire,  and  thus  was  put  out 
of  the  way  for  a  time.  After  all,  he  was  too 
small  game.  The  conspirators  accused  Lord 
Cobham  and  Sir  Walter  Raleigh.  The  ex- 
citement was  feverish  when  these  two  were 
committed  to  the  Tower.  The  tale  ran  that 
Lord  Grey's  had  been  but  a  bye-plot  (the 
name  under  which  it  has  come  down  in  his- 
tory) to  a  main  plot  that  concerned  Cobharn 
and  Raleigh. 


FROM  THE  TOWER   TO   WINCHESTER       71 

The  plague  spread.  King  James  went  to 
the  palace,  but  would  not  proceed  thence  to 
the  Tower,  for  the  procession  to  Westminster. 
This  was  one  grievous  disappointment  to  the 
throngs  of  people.  Another  was  that  St. 
James's  fair  was  forbidden  to  be  held  in  the 
precincts  of  the  palace.  Every  precaution 
was  taken  against  the  double  terrors  of 
plague  and  plot. 

The  royal  couple  went  to  Westminster  by 
water.  Meg,  clinging  to  her  brother's  hand, 
was  impressed  with  the  appearance  of  her 
Majesty,  whose  lovely  hair  hung  upon  her 
shoulders,  while  she  wore  a  golden  crown. 
Directly  after  the  ceremony  the  court  repaired 
to  Woodstock,  to  be  out  of  the  way  of  con- 
tagion. It  was  a  dull,  dreary  summer,  with 
constant  apprehension  from  illness,  or  from 
some  new  story  of  a  stratagem  against  King 
James.  Jan's  uncle  sent  word  from  France 
that,  till  the  plague  should  abate,  he  could 
not  risk  a  visit  to  England,  and  he  plainly 
did  not  wish  his  nephew  to  resort  to  him 
while  there  was  any  like  chance  of  bringing 
the  disease. 

With  the  autumn  came  the  trial  of  the 
plotters,  and  that  remarkable  defense  which 
Raleigh  made  for  himself.  It  was  cur- 


72  IN  THE  BRAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

rently  reported,  during  the  summer,  that  he 
had  attempted  suicide  in  his  despair.  The 
two  boys  made  their  way  into  the  trial  cham- 
ber to  hear  Sir  Walter,  for  whom  they  enter- 
tained much  sympathy,  since  scarcely  any  one 
shared  the  court's  impression  of  his  guilt. 
They  were  present  at  the  tragic  scene  when 
Elizabeth's  old  courtier  was  convicted  of  high 
treason. 

Watson  was  executed  not  long  after  this. 
To  Giles's  horror  one  day,  in  visiting  his 
guardian  at  Winchester,  where  the  court  was 
now  removed,  he  spied  the  head  of  his  tutor's 
old  friend  and  accomplice  set  up  on  the  castle 
tower. 

A  wet  November  morning  brought  the  time 
when  Lord  Grey,  Sir  Griffin  Markham,  and 
Lord  Cobham  were  to  be  beheaded.  The 
boys  went  with  all  the  masculine  world  of 
London  to  witness  this  last  passage  of  the 
Bye.  The  sheriff  first  brought  out  Sir 
Griffin,  looking  very  serious,  but  with  a  firm 
and  haughty  step.  A  handkerchief  was 
handed  to  him.  He  pushed  it  aside. 

"  I  can  face  death  without  blushing,"  said 
he. 

A  hand  was  laid  on  Giles's  arm.  A  pant- 
ing, hurrying  figure  pushed  between  Jan  and 


FROM  THE  TOWEE   TO   WINCHESTER       73 

himself.  A  man,  whose  dress  had  been  torn 
by  the  crowd,  whose  face  was  white  and 
strained,  raised  himself  upon  the  boys'  shoul- 
ders. 

"  Lift  me  up !  "  he  muttered  hoarsely. 
"  Lift  me  up !  'T  is  a  matter  of  life  and 
death  ! " 

The  friends  complied.  Holding  the  stran- 
ger above  the  heads  of  the  throng,  they  saw 
that  he  waved  a  paper  frantically  towards  the 
sheriff. 

" A  message,"  he  called,  —  "a  message 
from  his  Majesty !  " 

Sir  Benjamin  Tichborne  motioned  the  man 
—  it  was  King  James's  clerk  —  to  a  private 
conference.  By  and  by  he  came  back  to  Sir 
Griffin,  who  had  stood  quietly  in  his  place. 

"As  you  are  so  ill-prepared,"  he  said, 
"  you  shah1  have  two  hours'  grace." 

Markham  looked  astonished,  but  merely 
bowed.  He  was  led  from  the  scaffold,  and 
locked  into  the  castle  hall. 

Lord  Grey  was  brought  forth.  He  was 
foppishly  dressed,  surrounded  by  a  group  of 
young  men  friends.  He  knelt,  and  began  a 
prayer  for  himself,  and,  when  that  was 
finished,  one  for  the  king.  This  lasted  for 
an  hour,  during  which  the  crowd  stood  silent 


74  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

in  the  rain.  When  the  condemned  man  rose 
to  his  feet,  Sir  Benjamin  stepped  forward. 

"  The  order  has  been  changed,"  he  an- 
nounced ;  "  Lord  Cobham  is  to  precede  you, 
sir,"  and  led  the  bewildered  man  back  to 
where  Markham  was  waiting  in  the  castle. 

Lord  Cobham  was  now  brought  to  the 
scaffold.  He  began  a  speech  in  which  he 
persisted  in  the  story  he  had  told  against 
Raleigh,  —  a  story  the  latter  declared  to  be 
the  silliest  of  falsehoods.  A  moment  of  si- 
lence fell.  All  watched  what  the  sheriff  would 
do.  All  were  thunderstruck  to  see  Lord  Grey 
and  Sir  Griffin  once  more  led  forth  and  to- 
gether. The  three  men  stared  at  each  other 
in  bewilderment. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  Sir  Benjamin,  "  his 
Majesty,  in  his  mercy,  has  vouchsafed  your 
lives  to  you." 

A  mighty  shout  went  up,  —  a  shout  that 
rose  to  the  heavens.  Giles  pointed  to  a  win- 
dow of  the  tower,  and  a  face  that  looked 
down  on  them.  "  See,  Jan  !  "  he  said  ;  "  Sir 
Walter  Raleigh  listens.  Let  us  pray  that  it 
is  a  token  of  good  for  him." 

The  next  morning  brought  a  note  to  Giles 
from  Carey,  bidding  him  go  to  Winchester  on 
some  errand  for  himself.  The  writer  was  at 


75 

his  home  near  by,  but  did  not  wish  his  ward 
to  visit  him. 

"  I  am  not  well,"  he  added,  "  and,  though  I 
have  none  of  the  fear  of  the  great  sickness 
that  is  felt  at  court,  nor  any  thought  that  my 
megrims  may  prove  the  like,  yet,  't  is  wise  to 
take  precautions.  Thus  I  have  shut  myself 
up  here  for  a  season." 

The  business  at  the  castle  did  not  warrant 
delay.  Thither  Giles  proceeded  at  once. 
He  was  graciously  received  by  the  member  of 
the  Privy  Council  whom  Sir  Robert  had  told 
him  to  seek  out.  A  singular  apparition 
joined  Bruce  as  Giles  was  making  his  fare- 
well. It  was  a  Frenchman,  clad  in  jewel- 
trimmed  velvet  clothes  of  priceless  value. 
He  wore  gloves  of  finest  leather  that  exhaled 
an  overpowering  perfume.  Pearls  were  twined 
in  his  hair,  and  his  cheeks  were  painted.  A 
tiny  lap-dog  peeped  from  one  pocket  of  his 
coat.  The  boy  did  not  know  that  he  looked 
upon  one  of  the  last  of  the  Mignonnes  of 
Henry  Third  of  France. 

He  was  quitting  the  royal  household,  as  un- 
obtrusively as  might  be,  when  he  was  hailed 
by  an  imperious  yet  pleasant  salutation.  A 
youth  of  his  own  age  hurried  after  him,  catch- 
ing him  by  the  hand. 


76  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

"  Thou'rt  Giles  Valentine,  art  thou  not?" 
he  asked. 

It  was  Prince  Henry,  the  heir  to  the  throne. 

Giles  dropped  to  his  knees.  With  right 
good-will  he  kissed  the  hand  of  the  best  and 
the  most  brilliant  of  all  the  Stuart  line.  The 
handsome,  gay  little  fellow  snatched  away  his 
fingers,  and  gave  him  a  playful  tap. 

"Tut,  tut!"  he  cried.  "No  homage! 
What  are  we  save  two  young  rogues  to- 
gether ?  And  thou  hast  won  thy  spurs.  I 
have  long  wished  to  see  the  lad  who  took  that 
famous  ride  into  Scotland.  Bruce  told  me 
of  thy  visit,  just  in  time  to  overtake  thee. 
Come !  "  He  linked  his  arm  through  Giles's. 
"  Thou  art  my  prisoner." 

They  both  laughed.  Giles  thought,  if  this 
boy  were  king,  how  willingly  he  would  lay 
down  his  life  for  Henry  the  Ninth.  But 
Henry  the  Ninth  was  never  to  reign. 

"Thou  knowest  George  Earl?"  the  prince 
rattled  on.  "  Ah !  so  I  have  been  told " 
(with  a  shrewd  glance  at  his  companion). 
"  Didst  hear  that  he  was  ill,  lying  in  yon 
outhouse  ?  "  Giles  uttered  an  exclamation. 
"  Oh,  naught  serious,"  said  Henry  lightly. 
"  Or  so  Archie  told  us,  and  Archie  has  full 
charge  of  him." 


FROM  THE  TOWER   TO   WINCHESTER        77 

"  But  these  illnesses,"  —  Giles  began  un- 
easily. 

"  I  tell  thee  this  is  naught.  Stay,  we  will 
stop  at  the  door  and  inquire.  I  like  thee, 
good  Giles,  for  thine  anxiety." 

"  My  prince,  you  must  not  go." 

"  Wilt  not  believe  me  when  I  say  *t  is 
naught  ?  Ah,  here  is  Archie.  He  will  allay 
thy  fears.  Nay  ?  Why,  Archie,  man,  what 
is  it?" 

The  fool  burst  from  the  building  towards 
which  their  steps  were  bent.  He  flew  past 
them,  huddled  into  a  heap  of  terror,  not  not- 
ing Giles,  but,  even  in  his  passion  of  fear, 
with  the  sense  to  make  a  wide  circuit  from  the 
royal  boy.  His  face  was  buried  in  a  hand- 
kerchief. 

"  Back,  back  !  "  he  shrieked.  « 'T  is  the 
plague !  The  swelling  has  come  'neath  his 
arm.  'Tis  the  plague.  I  tell  you,  keep 
away !" 

Henry  was  every  inch  the  prince  as  he 
thundered  out :  — 

"  And  who  is  with  the  lad  ?  " 

"  No  one, —  no  one.  Who  would  bide  with 
the  stricken?  Your  highness,  I  tell  you, 
away  ! " 

And  with  that  Archie  was  gone. 


78  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

Henry  made  one  bound  towards  the  en- 
trance. Quick  as  he  was,  Giles  was  before 
him.  He  seized  his  sovereign's  son  about  the 
waist. 

"  Are  you  mad  ?  "  he  hissed  between  his 
teeth.  "  You  shall  not  enter  there." 

"  And  leave  the  dying  alone  ?  For  shame  J 
Unhand  me,  ere  I  strike." 

"  Strike,  an  it  pleaseth  you.  Nay,  of  what 
avail  ?  I  am  the  stronger.  You  shall  not 
go.  I  will  take  care  of  Earl.  I  will  shut 
myself  inside  that  room.  But  cross  the 
threshold  you  shall  not !  " 

"He  is  our  servant,"  Henry  gasped,  "and 
our  charge.  'T  is  no  concern  of  thine,  for  he 
is  not  thy  friend." 

"Ay,  it  is  my  concern,  for  he  is  mine 
enemy." 

They  reached  the  spot  in  their  wrestling 
struggle.  The  prince  drew  himself  together 
for  a  final  effort.  Giles  was  on  the  alert. 
He  loosened  the  other's  grasp  by  one  sudden 
movement.  He  made  a  dash  and  threw  his 
weight  against  the  door.  It  fell  in  with  him. 
He  was  inside,  and  he  slid  the  bolt. 


CHAPTER  VIH 

ENTER    GUY   FAWKES 

"  MY  kind  nurse,"  murmured  George  feebly, 
"  lay  thee  down  and  take  thy  rest." 

"  Thou  art  mending,"  Giles  answered,  stoop- 
ing over  the  pallet  where  the  invalid  was 
stretched.  He  set  down  his  dish  of  cooling 
drink,  and  took  the  skeleton  fingers  in  his. 
"  Thy  fever  is  abated ;  thy  pulse  beats  stronger. 
Please  God,  we  shall  bring  thee  out  of  this." 
He  smiled  down  upon  George  who,  to  his 
grief,  burst  into  a  flood  of  childish  tears. 

"  Under  Providence,  't  is  all  thy  doing," 
he  answered,  while  Giles  strove  in  vain  to 
soothe  him.  "  Thou  hast  watched  beside  me 
night  and  day.  Thou  hast  given  me  fondest 
care.  Thou  hast  gone  without  food  or  sleep, 
lest  I  suffer.  And  I  —  what  have  I  done  to 
thee?" 

"  Hush,  lad.  Thou  shalt  not  agitate  thy- 
self like  this.  By  and  by.  Wait  till  thou 
art  stronger,  if  thou  wouldst  bring  up  the 
past." 


80  IN   THE  BEAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

"No,  I  cannot,"  he  sobbed.  "'Tis  not 
out  of  my  mind  for  a  moment.  I  dwell  on 
naught  save  thy  kindness  and  my  base  con- 
duct. Giles,  't  was  I  that  stole  thy  gold  and 
thy  medal." 

"  Ay,  George,"  his  nurse  answered,  patting- 
his  hand;  "  I  guessed  as  much." 

"  Is  't  so  ?  And  —  and  I  was  one  to  way. 
lay  thee,  and  cast  thee  in  the  pit,  like  Joseph's 
wicked  brethren." 

"But  I  escaped,  like  Joseph,"  said  Giles 
with  a  smile.  "  Why  tell  me  this,  poor 
lad?" 

"  'T  is  a  relief.  And  one  thing  more.  I 
have  tried  to  injure  thee  to  his  Majesty. 
There  was  not  much  that  I  could  do.  Yet 
what  influence  was  mine  was  given  against 
thee.  And  —  there  was  another  more  power- 
ful adversary,  working  ever  to  poison  the 
king's  mind,  Giles." 

The  listener  understood  that  he  did  not 
wish  to  mention  Archie  by  name,  although  it 
was  plain  that  the  confession  was  a  warning 
for  him  to  beware  of  the  jester's  schemes. 

"I  am  such  a  harmless  subject,"  he  re- 
joined, to  reassure  his  informant.  "How 
could  my  sovereign  be  made  to  believe  that 
a  mere  boy  threatened  his  throne  ?  " 


ENTER    GUY    FAWKES  81 

"  Boy  or  man,  none  is  to  be  despised  in 
these  times.  I  tell  thee  to  be  on  thy  guard 
against  the  effects  of  what  has  already  been 
done.  Naught  more  will  be  essayed  against 
thee ;  at  the  least  I  can  promise  that." 

It  was  certainly  probable  that  the  fool, 
although  he  still  kept  aloof  from  his  nephew's 
sick-room,  himself  would  be  grateful  to 
Giles,  who  had  proved  the  stancher  friend. 
Through  Prince  Henry,  those  in  quarantine 
had  been  supplied  with  food  and  drink  and 
medical  attendance.  Archie,  too,  sent  mes- 
sages by  the  physician. 

"  Thou  wilt  forgive  me,  Giles  ? "  pleaded 
George. 

"  I  forgive  thee  freely.  Now  bide  still  and 
sleep." 

"  If  thou  wouldst  rest !  " 

"  I  will,"  Giles  answered  with  an  inspira- 
tion. "  If  thou  wilt  lie  quite  quietly,  I  \vill 
throw  myself  down  beside  thee  and  mayhap 
I  too  may  sleep." 

George  eagerly  assured  him  that  he  would 
not  stir.  Giles  intended  only  to  compose  the 
other,  forcing  him  to  the  repose  his  weak 
state  demanded.  He,  too,  was  utterly  worn 
out.  After  a  short  time  of  listening  to  his 
patient's  regular  breath,  of  watching  beneath 


82  IN  THE  BBAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

his  half-closed  eyelids  the  peaceful  slumber 
into  which  the  invalid  sank,  he  lost  conscious- 
ness and  knew  no  more. 

He  was  aroused  by  a  subdued,  impatient 
rapping  upon  the  door.  He  staggered  to  his 
feet,  rubbing  his  heavy  eyes. 

"  Who  knocks  ?  "  he  asked,  stealing  across 
the  room. 

"  'T  is  I,  —  Carey.  Giles,  I  must  have 
speech  with  thee." 

Instantly  the  boy  knew  that  something  was 
wrong  at  home.  His  hand  faltered  that  would 
fain  unbolt  the  door  which  stood  between 
himself  and  liberty.  His  sense  of  duty  kept 
him  where  he  stood. 

"  I  cannot  open,"  he  said.  "  'T  is  a  plague- 
stricken  spot." 

"  Lad,  this  is  no  time  for  parley,"  was  the 
response.  "  And  I  have  but  just  arisen  from 
the  plague." 

Giles  gave  a  cry  of  surprise.  His  scruples 
vanished ;  he  threw  open  the  door  and  stepped 
outside.  His  guardian  grasped  his  hand. 

"  My  good,  brave  boy,"  he  exclaimed. 
"  Would  that  the  tidings  I  brought  thee  were 
less  heavy ! " 

"My  mother?" 

"Thy  mother  is  ill,  Giles."     It  was   the 


ENTER   GUY  FAWKES  83 

court  physician  who  spoke.  He  stood  beside 
Sir  Robert.  "  We  have  deemed  it  right  to 
send  thee  to  her." 

Giles  looked  up  piteously  into  his  face. 
"  But  the  chance  of  contagion  ?  "  he  said. 

"  My  dear  lad,  there  is  no  danger." 

He  understood  that  his  mother  was  struck 
down  with  the  plague. 

He  clasped  his  hands  in  desperation.  "  How 
can  I  leave  George  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  will  attend  to  that.  Trust  me,  he  shall 
not  suffer.  Nay,  go  now  while  he  sleeps. 
'T  is  the  better  way.  And,  mayhap,  't  were 
well  that  thou  shouldst  hasten." 

Giles  lost  hope  from  that  moment.  His 
guardian  had  a  horse  waiting  for  him.  Their 
ride  was  so  conducted  that  they  held  no  inter- 
course with  others  upon  the  road.  Sir  Rob- 
ert had  brought  fresh  clothing  for  his  charge, 
who  left  that  which  was  tainted  with  infection 
to  be  burned  by  the  surgeon.  They  had  also 
food  in  their  saddle-bags,  and  they  made  rare 
halts  for  rest  until  the  chimneys  of  the  Grange 
came  once  more  into  sight. 

What  was  known  of  the  lady's  seizure  was 
imparted  to  her  son  as  they  rode.  It  was  the 
result  of  her  charity.  She  had  heard  through 
her  servants  that  Sir  Robert  lay  neglected  in 


84  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

a  home  whence  all  the  other  members  had 
fled  at  the  first  symptoms  of  his  disease.  She 
had  gone  to  him,  accompanied  by  the  physi- 
cian who  attended  the  two  families.  She  had 
saved  his  life,  the  grateful  man  declared ; 
Giles  saw  that  he  feared  it  might  be  at  the 
expense  of  her  own. 

Indeed,  there  was  not  one  sign  in  her  favor. 
She  recognized  her  children,  and  welcomed 
her  only  son.  She  commended  him  for  what 
he  had  done  at  Winchester,  telling  him  how 
entirely  Jan  had  tried  to  take  his  place  at  her 
side.  She  gave  little  Meg  into  her  brother's 
care.  Evidently  their  future  weighed  heavily 
upon  her  mind.  Mistress  Valentine  had  a 
last  wish  to  express  to  Giles's  guardian.  It 
was  that  he  and  his  sister  might  be  surren- 
dered to  Jan's  French  uncle  when  he  should 
come  for  Jan. 

"His  wife  will  look  after  my  little  girl," 
she  said,  almost  at  the  very  last.  "  Meg  will 
need  a  woman's  influence.  And  she  will  have 
a  companion  in  Annemie  Verrooy." 

Giles  reached  his  home  on  Christmas  Eve. 
The  Christmas  sun  rose  brightly  on  the 
desolate  house.  It  found  these  children 
motherless. 

Perhaps  it  was  well  for  the  boy  —  Meg  was 


ENTER  GUY  FAWKES  85 

too  young  to  comprehend  the  extent  of  her 
loss  —  that  he  sickened,  after  all  need  for 
further  exertion  was  over,  and  lay  for  weeks 
in  a  prostrate  condition,  even  when  his  most 
alarming  symptoms  were  passed.  Jan  and 
the  little  girl  escaped,  but  Dame  Tryon,  Mis- 
tress Valentine's  attendant,  and  her  children's 
old  nurse,  fell  ill,  requiring  long-continued 
care.  So  the  winter  wore  slowly  away. 
With  the  spring,  since  M.  Chapelain  did  not 
appear  from  Paris,  while  Sir  Robert's  duties 
at  court  kept  him  constantly  away  from  home, 
he  rented  the  Grange  to  old  acquaintances  of 
the  family.  The  understanding  was  that  Meg 
was  to  be  looked  after  here  for  the  present, 
while  the  boys  went  to  a  tutor  in  London. 

This  arrangement  would  have  been  admira- 
ble if  the  preceptor  had  proved  trustworthy. 
Master  Carr  soon  showed  himself  careless  of 
his  charges,  while  absorbed  in  his  own  affairs. 
He  was  a  profound  scholar,  engaged  upon  a 
book  of  disputation.  As  soon  as  the  day's 
lessons  were  finished  he  shut  himself  into  his 
study,  not  emerging  to  know  anything  of  the 
youths'  employment. 

They  spent  many  idle  hours  wandering 
about  the  ugly,  straggling  suburbs  of  the 
town.  Often  night  found  them  at  a  distance 


86  IN  THE  BRAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

from  home.  They  had  money  at  their  com- 
mand, and  no  account  to  render  to  Master 
Carr;  so  they  rather  enjoyed  a  search  for 
lodgings. 

"Where  are  we  now,  Giles?"  the  young 
Dutchman  asked. 

They  had  gone  on  a  long  tramp  into  the 
country.  Giles,  who  usually  acted  as  leader, 
had  proposed  their  stopping  at  Saint  Clement's 
Inn  for  the  night.  Dusk  was  falling,  but  no 
sign  of  hostelry  appeared.  Giles  was  looking 
about  him  irresolutely  when  his  friend  put  the 
question. 

"  I  have  no  idea.  We  must  have  missed 
the  road.  I  see  no  house.  Wait !  what  is 
that  there  in  the  midst  of  the  fields?  " 

"  It  is  a  house,"  said  Jan.  "  But  surely  it 
is  not  Saint  Clement's." 

"No  matter.  The  inmates  cannot  refuse 
us  entrance.  We  can  pay  them  well.  It 
looks  like  a  poor  place  where  gold  might  open 
the  door  if  pity  would  not." 

"  There  is  no  light  whatever,"  Jan  observed 
after  they  had  stumbled  forward  to  a  nearer 
view.  "  The  house  is  empty.". 

"All  the  better.  This  is  an  adventure 
indeed.  If  the  door  is  bolted  it  will  be  hard 
if  we  cannot  raise  a  window." 


ENTER  GUY  FAWKES  87 

This  proved  necessary.  They  tried  several 
entrances,  finally  coming  on  a  loose  sash  which 
could  be  pried  up  from  the  outside.  Jan  was 
a  slender,  lithe  little  fellow.  He  pushed 
himself,  though  not  without  some  difficulty, 
through  the  narrow  aperture.  He  opened  the 
door,  let  his  friend  in,  and  they  made  all  secure 
again.  Their  refuge  was  a  mere  hovel,  —  a 
room  below,  and  two  apparently  above  this, 
one  reached  by  a  stairway,  the  other  by  a 
rough  ladder.  It  was  a  boyish  freak  that 
induced  them  to  climb  to  this  last  chamber 
and  pull  the  ladder  up  after  them. 

They  made  themselves  a  bed  upon  the 
floor. 

"  Hark !  "  Jan  whispered. 

"  It  is  the  wind." 

"  No,  it  is  not  the  wind.     Hark !  " 

There  were  steps  in  the  room  beneath  them. 
The  outer  door  had  opened.  Through  chinks 
in  the  floor  they  saw  a  lantern  glimmer,  and 
then  that  it  was  shut  off.  All  was  darkness, 
yet  their  eyes,  now  accustomed  to  the  gloom, 
could  make  out  a  circle  of  shadowy  forms. 
It  was  characteristic  of  the  dreadful  state  of 
the  kingdom,  and  of  what  the  last  year  had 
brought  forth,  that  neither  had  a  single 
thought  now  of  the  meanness  of  eavesdrop- 


88  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

ping  :  all  they  had  in  mind  was  that  some 
terrible  iniquity  was  brewing,  and  it  was  their 
duty  to  discover  it. 

The  door  opened  again  very  softly  and  two 
more  men  entered.  Murmured  greetings  fol- 
lowed. Some  one  went  to  the  windows  and 
hung  a  cloak  at  each  one.  The  lantern  slide 
flew  back.  The  watchers  saw  a  group  of  five 
dark-faced  men,  all  gloomy  determination  and 
savage  daring.  One  after  another  they  sank 
upon  their  knees.  Each  one,  as  his  name  was 
called,  took  an  awful  oath  of  secrecy.  They 
were  Robert  Catesby,  Thomas  Winter,  Guy 
Fawkes,  Thomas  Percy,  and  John  Wright. 

They  clustered  close  about  the  one  who 
called  himself  Catesby. 

"  This  is  my  plan,"  said  he.  "  Speak  ye  if 
a  better  could  be  devised.  Vinegar  House  at 
Westminster  is  to  be  let.  It  has  a  shed 
against  the  House  of  Parliament.  Through 
it  a  hole  may  be  cut  in  the  foundation  wall  and 
powder  introduced  "  — 

There  was  an  outcry.  The  boys,  for  a  wild 
moment,  thought  that  it  came  from  them- 
selves. But  it  was  John  Wright  who  had  ut- 
tered the  word  "  Shame  !  " 

"Shame?"  repeated  Catesby,  turning  on 
him.  "  Have  we  no  right  to  use  such  mea- 


EN  TEE  GUY  FAWKES  89 

sures  as  come  to  hand  with  the  Scottish  swine, 
who  take  away  our  property,  our  gold,  our 
liberty  of  conscience  ?  Any  weapon  against 
them,  say  I." 

"  But  this  would  mean  the  Commons  as 
well ;  the  bishops  "  — 

"  Ay,  and  the  king,  and  the  Prince  of 
Wales.  We  shall  wipe  them  all  out  of  exist- 
ence. Come,  man,  be  wise.  Reflect  that,  if 
we  strike,  we  must  strike  hard." 

John  Wright  heaved  a  deep  sigh.  It  was 
echoed  by  Winter.  The  other  three  looked 
scornfully  defiant. 

"And  now  we  will  seek  Garnet,"  said 
Catesby.  "  He  lies  in  the  chamber  above. 
Methinks,"  as  a  gentle  snore  was  heard,  "  he 
sleeps  the  sleep  of  a  just  man." 

The  boys  seized  each  other  madly.  That 
sound  came  close  to  them.  Could  it  be  that 
there  was  another  occupant  of  the  garret, 
whose  presence  they  had  not  suspected  be- 
fore ?  Were  those  desperate  fellows  about  to 
enter  their  room  and  discover  them  ? 

No.  They  made  their  way  to  the  staircase. 
They  heard  them  steal  up  one  by  one.  They 
caught  the  tones  of  some  one  roused  from 
sound  slumber  on  the  other  side  of  the  thin 
partition  wall.  The  murmur  of  conversation 


90  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

came  to  them.     They  dared  not  move  to  listen 
closer  at  hand. 

By  and  by  the  men  crept  down  the  stair- 
way again.  They  conferred  together  shortly. 
They  unbolted  the  door.  They  had  all  quitted 
the  house  before  the  boys  drew  a  long  breath, 
or  stirred  from  their  fixed  position. 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE    GUNPOWDER   PLOT 

"  THERE  is,  at  least,  time  for  considera- 
tion," said  Giles,  as  they  left  the  dreadful 
house.  They  had  waited  for  daylight,  that 
they  might  not  run  across  any  watchers  lurk- 
ing outside. 

"  Yes.  Their  fiendish  plot  will  require 
months  of  preparation."  Jan  assented.  "And, 
happily,  we  know  the  very  spot  where  they 
will  be  employed.  We  can  keep  an  eye  on 
them,  while  we  are  making  up  our  minds 
what  it  is  best  to  do.  Do  you  suppose  it 
would  be  wisest  to  take  the  whole  thing  at 
once,  in  such  detail  as  we  have  collected,  to 
your  guardian  at  the  court  ?  " 

"  I  doubt  it,"  Giles  replied.  "  Think,  when 
the  Bye  was  frustrated,  how  Raleigh  was 
dragged  into  it.  Sir  Robert  is  known  to  have 
been  disappointed  by  the  position  given  him. 
His  Majesty's  mind  has  been  colored  by 
Archie's  hints.  No.  Frankly,  I  dare  not 
tell  my  guardian,  for  his  own  good.  Not 


92  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

unless  we  resort  to  that  in  the  end,  in  desper- 
ation." 

Boys  such  as  these,  bright,  constantly  upon 
the  watch,  made  the  cunningest  of  spies, 
where  men,  about  the  same  business,  would 
have  been  soon  detected.  They  learned  that 
one  Thomas  Percy  had  rented  the  Westmin- 
ster House.  Robert  Kay,  evidently  a  new 
member  of  the  band,  had  taken  another  at 
Lambeth,  whence  fagots,  coal,  and  powder 
were  conveyed,  little  by  little,  by  Fawkes, 
who  was  represented  to  the  world  as  Percy's 
servant.  Sir  Robert  innocently  told  the 
friends  one  day,  in  a  visit  to  them,  that 
Percy  had  obtained  a  license  from  King 
James  to  collect  a  troop  in  the  service  of  the 
Archduke  Albert  in  Flanders.  Catesby,  he 
said,  was  to  be  a  captain  in  this  enterprise, 
and  both  men  were  gathering  together  arms 
and  horses. 

Jan  trod  on  Giles's  foot  underneath  the 
table.  This,  of  course,  was  part  of  the  con- 
spiracy ;  these  were  preparations  for  the  one 
horrible  event. 

One  day,  Jan  urged  a  reflection  that 
had  been  harassing  him  of  late.  George 
Earl,  they  heard,  had  gone  to  Scotland  to 
recruit  his  health.  Archie  was  with  the 


THE  GUNPOWDER  PLOT  93 

court.  Although  his  insinuations  against 
Giles  might  have  ceased  since  his  nephew's 
illness,  what  he  had  said  in  the  past  was 
probably  remembered  by  the  king,  —  not 
only  against  Carey,  but  also  against  his  ward. 
Would  it  not  all  be  revived  if  it  ever  came 
out  that  the  boy  had  been  acquainted  with 
the  workings  of  this  gunpowder  plot? 

"  I  understand  the  hazards  of  my  position," 
Giles  answered  steadily.  "  Well,  I  can  only 
do  my  duty  as  it  appears  to  me,  leaving  the 
result  in  the  hands  of  Providence." 

By  hanging  about  Vinegar  House,  and 
seizing  their  opportunity,  the  boys  managed 
to  slip  inside.  They  found  a  close,  dark 
closet  on  the  ground  floor,  from  which  they 
could  hear  a  good  deal  and  see  something  of 
what  was  going  on.  Their  lives,  they  thor- 
oughly appreciated,  were  in  jeopardy.  They 
were  obliged  to  be  careful  beyond  words  to 
describe.  For  the  plotters,  now  eight  in 
number,  had  laid  in  a  supply  of  food,  and  left 
the  place  so  seldom  that  there  was  always 
some  one  on  guard.  Happily  their  work  in 
the  cellar  was  such  close  employment  that  Jan 
and  Giles  did  get  in  and  out  of  the  upper 
floor  unseen  by  them.  They  were  trying  to 
undermine  the  foundation,  but  water  ran  in 


94  IN   THE  BRAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

on  them,  making  this  impossible.  Then  they 
began  to  bore  through  the  wall.  It  was  labor 

o  o 

to  which  none  of  them  was  accustomed. 
There  were  many  mishaps  when  the  stones 
were  moved :  they  had  been  laid  three  yards 
thick,  and  the  task  was  endless. 

The  crash  of  one  of  these  rocks,  as  it  fell 
one  morning  to  the  ground,  was  followed  by 
a  strange  noise  overhead.  Again  Giles  caught 
his  companion  in  a  nervous  grasp ;  again,  as 
in  the  house  by  St.  Clement's  Inn,  he  sup- 
posed the  sound  came  from  close  to  them- 
selves, and  that  detection  was  inevitable.  Jan 
was  beset  by  another  alarm.  He  believed  the 
foundations  of  the  building  had  been  shaken ; 
that  it  was  falling  about  their  heads. 

They  heard  the  rapid  running  of  feet  up 
the  cellar  steps.  They  held  their  breath. 
They  did  not  move  as  the  man  came  nearer 
their  hiding-place.  He  passed  them,  and  went 
on  out  of  doors.  After  a  long  interval  he 
returned.  They  could  tell  by  his  descending 
footfalls  that  he  was  reentering  the  cellar. 

"'Tis  a  coal  dealer,"  said  Guy  Fawkes, 
"  removing  his  stock  from  vaults  beneath  the 
Parliament  House.  He  goes  into  business 
elsewhere." 

Percy  dropped   his   pickaxe.     "The  very 


THE  GUNPOWDER  PLOT  95 

thing !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Guy,  thou  shalt 
hire  it  in  my  name,  an  the  place  be  to  let. 
Thither  thou  canst  convey  the  powder  and 
the  fagots.  Friends,  it  is  given  into  our 
hands.  We  need  not  thus  to  strive  to  enter 
it  from  without." 

The  boys  gathered  further  that,  since  spring 
was  advancing,  nothing  was  to  be  done,  be- 
yond such  plans  as  these  for  the  storing  of 
the  powder,  until  Parliament  should  assemble 
in  the  autumn.  There  was  no  more  for  them 
to  discover  here,  after  they  had  seen  thirty- 
six  barrels,  whose  deadly  contents  they  could 
guess,  carried  into  the  vaults  next  door,  with 
armfuls  of  wood  and  wagon-loads  of  coal. 
Now  Jan  devised  an  idea,  and,  during  the 
long  days  of  summer,  they  were  prepared  to 
carry  it  into  effect. 

They  had  overheard  the  names  of  several 
new  conspirators  who  had  recently  joined  the 
party.  One  was  a  John  Grant,  living  near 
Stratford,  an  acquaintance  of  Wentworth, 
who,  they  were  told,  was  staying  with  him. 
Under  cover  of  a  wish  to  see  Giles's  old  tutor, 
they  might  seek  out  this  man.  Perhaps  they 
could  let  fall  a  hint  that,  while  it  shielded 
themselves  from  any  share  in  the  scheme, 
should  warn  Grant  that  the  plot  was  known. 


96  IN   THE  BRAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

This  much  they  could  do  in  safety.  Obtain- 
ing permission  from  Master  Carr  to  absent 
themselves,  they  set  out  for  Warwickshire. 

After  various  misadventures,  they  were  set 
upon  the  way  to  the  house  they  sought.  It 
was  a  dark  and  gloomy  spot,  shut  in  by 
frowning  walls,  on  the  outskirts  of  the  quiet 
village,  and  giving  a  glimpse  of  the  river 
Avon.  The  boys  inquired  at  the  gate  for 
Wentworth. 

"  He  left  Stratford  this  morning,"  the 
lodge-keeper  answered,  "to  return  to  York- 
shire. If  ye  are  fain  to  follow  him,  he  has 
five  hours'  start." 

They  exchanged  glances  of  dismay.  "  What 
is  to  be  done  now  ?  "  Jan  asked,  speaking,  as 
usual,  in  French. 

"  At  least  we  must  see  the  master  of  the 
house,"  was  the  reply  in  the  same  language. 
"  It  may  be  that  we  can  do  something  with 
him.  But  this  absence  of  Master  Wentworth 
is  a  severe  blow  to  our  device." 

They  were  ushered  into  the  presence  of 
Grant,  a  nervous,  frail-looking  man.  As 
Giles  and  his  friend  entered  the  room  he 
was  tearing  up  a  letter.  He  stooped  to  col- 
lect the  scraps  of  paper  before  he  spoke  to 
them,  or  motioned  them  to  seats. 


THE  GUNPOWDER  PLOT  97 

"Your  errand,  young  sirs?"  he  said,  in 
tones  that  betrayed  agitation. 

Giles  bent  forward  to  catch  his  shifty  eye. 
"  We  came  seeking  my  one-time  tutor,  Master 
Wentworth.  Would  you  hear  our  mission  to 
him?" 

Grant  sank  uneasily  into  the  depths  of  an 
immense  oaken  chair.  "  As  you  will,"  he 
answered  coldly.  The  boys  thought  his  white 
fingers  twitched  in  their  grasp  upon  the  bits 
of  paper. 

"  We  meant  to  warn  him,"  Giles  went  on, 
speaking  steadily,  though  his  heart  beat  fast, 
"  that  he  had  been  on  the  brink  of  accusation 
in  the  Bye.  It  might  not  go  as  well  with 
him  another  time,  if  he  were  found  so  close 
to  a  bigger  plot  when  exposure  came." 

Grant  jumped  to  his  feet.  His  movement 
was  so  violent  that  the  great  chair  was  over- 
thrown. "  What  meanst  thou  ?  "  he  stuttered. 
"  The  Parliament  —  the  —  the  commissioners 
—  have  they  discovered  aught  ?  " 

"  Mayhap  you  mean  the  commissioners  for 
the  union  of  England  and  Scotland,"  Jan  in- 
terrupted coolly ;  "  those  who  have  been 
lodged  at  Vinegar  House  in  Westminster. 
What  should  they  have  discovered?" 

"  I  know  not,"  the  miserable  wretch  replied. 


98  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

He  spent  a  moment  readjusting  his  chair  in 
its  place.  "  The  mention  of  a  plot  —  that 
was  it.  I  fail  to  understand  thee."  looking 

*  o 

at  Giles,  "with  thy  half  sentences.  What 
meanst  thou,  boy  ?  " 

Giles  saw  Jan  stoop,  as  if  to  put  a  damask 
cushion  in  its  place.  He  saw,  too,  without 
the  apparent  flicker  of  an  eyelash,  that  his 
colleague  had  gathered  a  bit  of  paper,  in  that 
swift  movement,  into  his  palm. 

"  A  word  to  the  wise  is  proverbially  suffi- 
cient," he  answered  courteously.  "  Sir,  we 
intend  but  kindness,  and  no  harm.  We  come 
from  London.  You  here,  safe  hid  away  from 
the  turmoil  of  that  life,  may  not  guess  what 
talk  there  arises  of  stratagems  and  schemes. 
'T  was  in  these  we  meant  to  beg  Master  Went- 
worth  to  refrain  from  show  of  complicity. 
And  now  farewell." 

Grant  raised  his  hand  in  detention.  "  Meant 
you  some  special  plot  ?  Have  ye  heard  aught 
of  one?" 

With  perfect  truth  they  could  say,  Yes. 
Indeed  they  had  heard  sufficient,  from  Catesby 
and  his  followers,  to  warrant  a  full  assent. 
Of  course  Grant  understood  them  to  mean 
that  the  matter  was  known  to  the  world. 
His  pale  face  grew  whiter. 


THE  GUNPOWDER  PLOT  99 

"  It  hath  not  reached  the  court  ? "  he 
asked. 

"  I  think  not  yet,"  Giles  answered.  "  You 
may  well  see  that  it  is  only  a  question  of 
time.  All  will  be  speedily  laid  before  the 
king." 

Grant  reached  out  a  hand,  which  Giles  pre- 
tended not  to  see. 

"  I  thank  ye  both,"  he  said,  his  voice  shak- 
ing with  terror.  "  I  thank  ye  in  Master 
Wentworth's  name.  I  will  devise  means  to 
let  him  know  what  ye  say.  And  now  you 
will  have  some  refreshment?" 

"  Naught  whatever,  sir,"  they  cried  in  a 
breath.  "  Time  presseth,"  Jan  went  on.  "  We 
must  be  far  on  our  road  to-night." 

They  bowed  and  left  the  room.  Giles 
glanced  back,  for  a  last  look,  and  saw  their 
host  fallen  sidewise  in  the  oaken  chair.  His 
trembling  fingers  tapped  his  chin.  His  fea- 
tures were  dark  with  thought. 

No  sooner  were  they  outside  the  garden, 
and  the  lodge  gate  closed  behind  them,  than 
Jan  opened  his  tightly  shut  fingers.  He  held 
up  the  scrap  they  had  concealed. 

"  See  my  prize  !  "  he  cried.  "  Let  us  read 
it  together." 

Giles  looked  over  his  shoulder. 


100  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

"A  cipher!"  he  exclaimed  in  sore  disap- 
pointment. 

"  Not  at  all.  What  rare  good  fortune ! 
You  remember  Fawkes  said  he  had  been  in 
the  Netherlands.  'T  is  Dutch,  boy,  and  from 
Guy,  I  take  it.  It  reads,  — 

" '  Parliament  has  been  prorogued  from 
October  to  November.  Can  it  be  that  we 
are  mistrusted  ? ' 


CHAPTER  X 

AT    HOLBEACH 

THE  boys  felt  much  relieved  as  they  gal- 
loped along  the  country  roads  on  their  way 
back  to  town. 

"  The  plot  has  been  discovered,"  Giles  said 
excitedly,  "  without  any  appearance  of  you  or 
me  in  the  unveiling.  The  country  is  safe, 
and  so  are  our  necks !  " 

"  I  doubt,"  the  more  cautious  Jan  re- 
sponded, "  that  all  fear  is  past  of  our  seeing 
the  inside  of  the  Tower.  I  do  wish  "  (with  a 
long-drawn  breath)  "  that  we  were  outside 
England." 

"  Where  could  we  go  ?  To  your  distracted 
Netherlands  ? "  For  Jan's  uncle  had  been 
during  the  past  summer  in  Holland,  sent  by 
the  French  government  on  affairs  of  state. 

"Better  there  than  here,"  Jan  contended 
stoutly.  "  But,  alas  !  it  is  little  use  wishing. 
They  are  the  dark  schemes  of  troubled  Lon- 
don, into  which  we  are  throwing  ourselves 
once  more." 


102  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

So  they  approached  the  city.  Jan  went 
straight  to  Westminster,  while  Giles  sought 
out  White  Webbs,  a  lonely  house  near  Enfield 
Chase,  which  they  knew  the  conspirators  had 
lately  hired.  In  this  manner,  when  they  met 
later  on  at  their  lodgings,  both  had  something 
to  tell  of  what  they  had  gathered  from  their 
perilous  observation.  Jan  said  that  Fawkes 
was  fully  reassured.  The  commissioners  had 
walked  over  the  spot  where  his  barrels  of 
powder  were  concealed,  and  talked  easily  to- 
gether the  while.  The  postponement  of  Par- 
liament might  be  due  to  several  causes.  He 
was  confident  that  it  was  not  from  detection 
of  the  plot. 

Giles  had  learned  still  more.  There  were 
recent  accessions  to  the  ranks.  Sir  Everett 
Digby  had  given  a  large  sum  of  money.  He 
was  to  invite  his  friends  to  a  hunting  party 
in  Warwickshire,  so  that  they  should  be  gath- 
ered together  in  readiness  to  take  up  arms  as 
soon  as  the  train  of  powder  had  been  fired. 
Fawkes  was  to  use  a  slow-match,  which  would 
give  him  time  to  take  a  boat  before  the  explo- 
sion, and  reach  a  ship  ready  to  convey  him  to 
Flanders. 

The  Princess  Elizabeth  was  to  be  proclaimed 
Queen  after  the  death  of  her  father  and 


AT  HOLBEACH  103 

brothers,  if  Charles  was  of  the  royal  party ; 
otherwise  he  was  to  reign.  A  wealthy  coun- 
try gentleman,  Francis  Tresham,  was  among 
the  later  plotters,  and,  Giles  said,  was  felt  by 
the  others  —  he  was  Catesby's  convert,  and 
brought  in  because  of  his  long  purse  —  to  be 
of  so  fickle  a  nature  as  to  endanger  the  suc- 
cess of  anything  he  undertook. 

"  Catesby  himself  regrets  his  presence,  now 
it  is  too  late,"  the  boy  added.  "  I  heard 
him  complain  to  several  of  the  company  of 
the  dreadful  dreams  that  were  tormenting 
him.  He  is  losing  heart." 

"  Is  the  time  set  for  the  5th  ?  "  asked  Jan. 

"  Yes,  but  there  is  a  hitch.  Almost  every 
plotter  has  some  friend  whom  he  wishes  to 
save.  Catesby,  alone,  stands  out,  utterly  blood- 
thirsty. He  says  he  would  lose  his  own  son 
rather  than  run  any  danger  of  revealing 
the  plot  by  putting  him  upon  his  guard. 
The  rest  could  not  see  it  in  the  same  light. 
It  is  agreed  that  each  who  chooses  to  do 
so  shall  send  some  message  to  a  friend,  bid- 
ding him  stay  away  from  the  house  that  day. 
Those  warnings  give  us  our  opportunity,  Jan." 

"  Yes,"  Jan  thoughtfully  assented,  "  That 
is  our  chance.  This  fickle  Tresham,  —  whom 
does  he  desire  to  save  ?" 


104  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

"  His  brother-in-law,  Lord  Monteagle." 

"  Let  us  watch  his  brother-in-law.  We 
can  reach  the  council  best  through  him,  I 
fancy." 

Lord  Monteagle's  movements  were  readily 
learned.  On  the  night  of  October  27,  the 
two  heard  that  he  had  sent  orders  to  his  house 
at  Hoxton  to  have  supper  for  him.  They 
were  lurking  outside  when  he  arrived.  Pre- 
sently a  tall,  dark  man,  wrapped  in  a  long 
cloak,  appeared  from  the  shadow  of  the  wall. 
He  had  been  on  the  lookout,  too.  The 
friends  were  sauntering  easily  along,  arm  in 
arm.  There  was  nothing  suspicious  in  their 
air.  The  man  held  out  a  letter  to  Giles. 

"  I  will  give  thee  a  piece  of  gold,"  he  be- 
gan, "  if  thou  wilt  deliver  this  into  the  hands 
of  my  lord." 

Giles  did  not  move  his  fingers  even  to  push 
away  the  coin.  He  could  not  so  much  as 
touch  the  thing  that  was  cursed  because  of  its 
owner.  For  he  guessed  this  to  be  Francis 
Tresham. 

"  I  will  take  your  message,"  he  answered. 

"  Give  it  to  none  else  than  my  lord  him- 
self." 

"  It  shall  be  done." 

The  man  glided   away.     Giles   demanded 


AT  HOLBEACH  105 

entrance  at  the  door,  while  Jan  waited  for 
him  under  the  wall  outside.  There  was  the 
excuse  of  an  important  letter.  Giles  was  ad- 
mitted to  Monteagle's  presence.  He  surren- 
dered the  paper  with  the  explanation  that  a 
passer-by  in  the  street  had  urgently  begged 
him  to  see  it  delivered.  The  master  of  the 
house  tore  open  the  sheet.  He  stared  at  its 
contents  in  blank  surprise. 

"  A  feigned  hand,"  he  muttered.  "Neither 
signed  nor  dated.  Here,  Ward,"  handing  it 
over  to  one  of  his  esquires.  "  Read  the  whole 
aloud !  " 

Giles's  memory  always  retained  a  few  sen- 
tences of  that  letter,  of  which  he  thus  heard 
the  contents. 

"'Out  of  the  love  I  have  to  some  of  your 
friends,  I  have  a  care  of  your  preservation. 
...  I  would  advise  you,  as  you  tender  your 
life,  to  devise  some  excuse  to  shift  attendance 
at  this  Parliament.  ...  I  say  they  shall  re- 
ceive a  terrible  blow,  this  Parliament.' ' 

My  lord  sprang  up.  "  I  must  to  White- 
hall ere  I  sleep  !  "  said  he. 

Giles  rejoined  his  companion  outside  the 
gate.  "  All  is  well !  "  he  cried,  flinging  an 
arm  about  Jan's  neck.  "  All  is  well,  and  we 
have  not  been  seen  to  move  in  it  at  all." 


106  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

Jan  made  no  answer. 

Sir  Robert  came  a  little  later  to  look  to 
their  welfare  before  taking  a  journey  to 
Ireland  on  the  king's  business.  He  spoke 
of  rumors  at  court,  of  a  gigantic  plot  against 
all  the  heads  of  the  nation.  Monteagle  had 
brought  a  letter  concerning  it,  to  show  to 
James. 

"  Our  hands  are  washed  of  it  all,"  said 
Giles,  after  his  guardian  had  taken  his  leave. 

"I  hope  they  may  be,"  Jan  answered. 
"  And,  lad !  since  there  is  no  further  good 
purpose  to  serve,  don't  go  near  Westminster 
nor  White  Webbs  again." 

Giles  opened  his  eyes  very  wide.  "  Are 
you  grown  timid  ?  "  he  said  in  jest. 

"Yes,  and  none  too  soon.  Can  you  not 
see  that  we  two  have  been  too  often  hanging 
about  those  men?  We  have  visited  Grant, 
and  you  were  Tresham's  messenger  to  Lord 
Monteagle.  It  is  high  time  to.  think  of  our 
own  good." 

"  Ah,  but  I  must  see  what  Fawkes  is  about 
in  the  vaults,"  Giles  pleaded.  "Just  one 
more  visit,  Jan,  and  I  shall  be  prudence  itself 
henceforth.  Only  let  me  witness  the  end  of 
the  tragedy." 

Jan  shook  his  head,  but  his  friend  had  his 


AT  HOLBEACH  107 

way.  On  Monday  he  went  to  Westminster, 
where  he  saw  my  Lord  Chamberlain  and 
Monteagle  looking  about  the  House  of  Lords, 
as  if  in  preparation  for  the  next  day's  recep- 
tion of  the  king.  They  made  an  excuse 
about  some  missing  hangings  to  go  down 
into  the  vaults.  Guy  Fawkes  stood  in  one 
corner  beside  a  pile  of  fagots. 

"  What  art  doing  here  ?  "  demanded  Suf- 
folk. 

"  I  am  Master  Percy's  servant,  an  't  please 
my  lord,"  he  answered.  "  I  am  looking  after 
my  master's  stock  of  fuel." 

"  Thy  master  has  a  good  stock,"  said  Mont- 
eagle.  And  so  they  left  him. 

Giles  was  too  excited  to  quit  the  spot.  He 
found  himself  an  old  hiding-place  in  a  corner 
of  the  building.  He  watched  there,  through 
that  long  night,  for  what  should  happen.  He 
saw  a  guard  of  soldiers  gather,  and  knew  that 
the  end  was  near.  Midnight  was  called  by 
the  watchman,  and  one  o'clock,  and  two.  A 
tall,  cloaked  figure  crept  up  out  of  the  vault. 
There  was  a  murmured  word  of  command. 
The  soldiers  moved  forward  like  one  body. 
Guy  Fawkes  was  surrounded.  The  men 
bound  him  hand  and  foot,  he  making  neither 
sound  nor  movement  when  he  saw  how  use- 


108  IN  THE  BEAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

less  resistance  would  be.  The  commander,  a 
Westminster  magistrate,  descended  into  the 
vault.  Giles  pushed  behind  him  in  the  mob. 
Back  of  the  door  was  a  dark  lantern  burning. 
The  fagots  were  quickly  pulled  from  their 
places.  Hogsheads  and  barrels  were  found 
beneath  them.  The  soldiers  tapped  one  after 
another.  From  each  trickled  the  same  thin 
stream  of  a  dark,  odorous  powder. 

Sir  Thomas  Knevett  came  out  of  the  cellar. 
He  pointed  towards  his  prisoner.  "  To  his 
Majesty,"  he  said.  "He  shall  examine  into 
this  matter."  And  leaped  upon  his  horse. 

Giles  knew  that  he  should  return  home  to 
Jan,  who  would  be  watching  for  him.  He 
knew  that  he  should  keep  himself  out  of  any 
further  implication  with  the  discovery.  But 
he  was  rash  enough  to  go  to  White  Webbs, 
instead,  to  see  how  the  other  plotters  bore  the 
arrest  of  Fawkes.  The  conduct  of  these  men, 
for  that  last  month  before  the  complete  dis- 
closure, has  always  remained  a  mystery.  Be- 
sides such  warnings  as  Grant  must  have  given 
them,  Monteagle's  letter  was  repeated  to 
one  of  them,  in  substance,  by  Ward.  Their 
boldness  is  hard  to  credit.  Giles  found  that 
Percy  and  Winter  were  mounting  to  ride  to 
Dunmoor.  Keyes  and  Rookwood,  he  learned, 


AT  HOLBEACH  109 

were  to  wait  until  the  following  morning  for 
the  latest  news. 

When  Giles  fell  into  his  bedroom,  full  of 
the  story  which  Jan  must  awaken  to  hear, 
prudence  flew  to  the  winds.  Both  were  tin- 
gling with  the  electricity  with  which  all  Lon- 
don was  charged.  At  noon  they  found  them- 
selves, they  could  not  have  told  how,  waiting 
on  horseback  to  witness  the  flight  of  the 
White  Webbs  party.  They  had  not  discussed 
it  together,  yet  they  understood  that  they  in- 
tended to  follow  these  men  and  see  them 
brought  to  bay.  Keyes  had  already  quitted 
the  house.  Rookwood  rode  forth  at  noon. 
At  Brickhill  he  overtook  Catesby  with  John 
Wright.  Soon  afterwards  they  fell  in  with 
Percy  and  Christopher  Wright.  They  rode 
at  the  top  of  their  speed,  outstripping  the 
boys,  who  saw  them  fling  their  cloaks  over  a 
hedge  to  lighten  their  weight.  When  the 
home  of  Catesby 's  mother  was  reached,  at 
Ashby,  Saint  Leger's,  Rookwood  had  gone 
eighty  miles  in  the  six  hours.  Another  group 
were  just  sitting  down  to  supper  here,  but, 
worn  out  as  they  were,  they  all  went  on  to 
Dunchurch,  where  Sir  Everard  Digby  awaited 
them. 

The  boys  kept  upon  their  track  as  best  they 


110  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

might.  They  found  that  the  eight  men,  with 
their  servants,  had  made  for  Warwickshire. 
They  must  now  have  given  up  the  pursuit 
had  they  not  fallen  in  with  a  company  of 
country  people,  under  the  sheriff's  leadership. 
The  news  had  come  down  from  London,  and 
these  men  were  looking  for  the  fugitives. 
Jan  was  aghast  at  his  friend's  recklessness, 
but  Giles  had  altogether  lost  his  head.  Spur- 
ring his  tired  horse  to  the  officer's  side,  he 
begged :  — 

"  Oh,  sir,  mount  us  and  let  us  go  with  you ! 
We  can  identify  every  one.  We  have  heard 
them  plan  this  flight,  and  know  whither  they 
go.  Take  us  with  you>  and  you  will  see  that 
we  speak  the  truth." 

"  Horses  for  these  youths ! "  cried  the 
sheriff.  "  And  now  ride  on." 

They  were  led  across  Worcestershire  also. 
On  the  evening  of  the  7th  they  traced  their 
prey  to  a  house  at  Holbeach.  Here,  it  was 
evident,  they  were  determined  to  make  a 
stand,  and  hold  out  the  place  against  attack. 
The  sheriff  of  Worcester  was  roused,  but 
deemed  it  wise  to  wait  till  day  for  action. 
Giles  and  Jan  rode  restlessly  around  the  house 
watching  for  signs  of  life  within.  They  saw 
a  troop  of  servants  steal  away.  Then  came 


AT  HOLBEACH  111 

out  a  gentleman,  —  it  was  the  master  of  the 
house,  —  followed  by  Sir  Everard. 

Directly  afterwards  there  was  a  tremendous 
noise.  A  huge  bag  of  gunpowder  flew  up 
through  the  roof.  There  had  been  an  explo- 
sion in  the  house.  It  was  learned  later  that 
there  was  an  accidental  discharge  of  drying 
powder.  Several  men  were  injured.  Robert 
Winter,  wild  with  horror,  rushed  out  of  doors 
and  into  the  neighboring  woods. 

At  noon  came  the  pursuers.  The  sheriff, 
in  a  loud  shout,  demanded  their  surrender. 
Catesby  looked  down  from  a  window  and  re- 
turned a  defiant  answer. 

"  Fire  the  buildings,"  called  the  sheriff  to 
part  of  his  men.  To  the  rest  he  gave  the 
order,  "  Storm  the  gateway,"  and  they  pushed 
forward. 

The  entrance  doors  flew  open.  Out  into 
the  courtyard  marched  Catesby,  Rookwood, 
Thomas  Winter,  the  Wright  brothers,  and 
Percy.  They  were  armed  with  their  swords, 
but  had  no  opportunity  to  use  them.  Winter 
was  shot  at  once  in  his  right  arm.  Catesby 
sprang  to  his  side. 

"  Stand  by  me,  Tom  !  "  said  he.  "  We  will 
die  together  !  " 

They   placed   themselves    back    to    back. 


112  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

There  was  another  shot,  and  another.  Two 
bullets  from  the  same  musket  had  pierced 
them  both  through  the  body.  Those  nearest 
the  house  saw  Catesby  creep  back  on  his 
hands  and  knees  to  the  hall.  He  grasped  the 
image  of  the  Virgin  that  looked  down  on  the 
bloody  scene.  He  fell  over  and  died  holding 
it  to  his  breast. 

Percy  was  fatally  wounded.  The  Wright 
brothers  were  both  killed.  Rookwood  was 
run  through  the  body  by  a  pike,  and  had  a 
broken  arm.  He  was  captured  in  the  rush 
from  the  courtyard.  He  lived  to  regard  his 
companions,  who  perished  in  the  assault  upon 
Holbeach,  as  more  fortunate  than  he.  For 
his  own  end  was  certain.  Not  two  months 
later  he  suffered  the  fate  of  a  traitor. 


CHAPTER   XI 

PRINCE    HENRY   AND    CAPTAIN    SMITH 

THE  servant  at  their  tutor's  lodgings  came 
in  about  this  time  with  a  message. 

"  There  is  one  Dame  Tryon  without,"  he 
announced.  "  She  asks  for  Master  Valentine. 
She  has  a  child  with  her." 

Giles  looked  at  his  friend.  "  It  is  Nurse 
Janet,"  he  said,  "  and  little  Meg.  What  can 
be  the  matter?" 

He  went  into  the  passage.  His  old  nurse 
stood  waiting  for  him,  with  Meg  clinging  to 
her  cloak.  As  the  brother  stooped  over  the 
child  he  asked  :  — 

"  What  brings  thee  here,  Janet  ?  Naught 
amiss,  I  trust." 

For  answer  she  handed  him  a  pheasant's 
feather. 

His  cheek  paled.     "  Whence  came  this? " 

"  A  groom  stopped  me  as  my  little  lady  and 
I  were  taking  our  walk  in  the  lane  at  sunset. 
He  had  horses  ready.  He  bade  me  mount 
and  lead  him  to  ye,  an  I  loved  my  old  mis- 


114  IN   THE  BRAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

tress's  children.  What  could  I  do  but  come? 
When  we  reached  the  house  he  gave  me  this. 
I  was  to  tell  you  a  boat  lay  in  the  stream,  and 
a  barge  was  ready  off  St.  Katharine's  Wharf 
to  set  sail.  Do  you  understand,  Master 
Giles?" 

The  woman  looked  at  him  piteously.  She 
had  all  sorts  of  dark  forebodings. 

"  Ay,"  said  Giles  quickly.  "  I  under- 
stand." 

He  went  straight  to  Jan  with  the  intelli- 
gence. They  flew  about  the  room,  collecting 
their  small  treasures.  There  was  no  time  for 
talk ;  there  was  no  possibility  here  of  a  trap. 

Giles  wrote  two  hasty  notes,  —  one  to  be 
given  to  his  tutor,  the  other  to  be  sent  out  to 
the  family  at  the  Grange.  Then  they  joined 
Dame  Tryon.  Giles  took  his  sister  in  his 
arms  and  they  hurried  down  the  stairs. 

Out  in  the  street  the  groom  still  waited. 
The  horses  had  disappeared.  He  approached 
Giles,  removing  his  broad-brimmed  hat.  His 
bow  was  so  low,  and  his  cloak  so  muffled  about 
his  chin,  that  his  face  was  still  concealed. 

"  A  vessel  sails  to-night,"  said  a  disguised 
voice,  "for  Ostend.  Passage  has  been  en- 
gaged for  a  party  of  four.  Are  ye  ready  to 
embark?" 


PEINCE  HENRY  AND  CAPTAIN  SMITH     115 

"  At  whose  suggestion  ?  "  Giles  demanded. 

There  was  a  light  laugh  underneath  the 
broad-brimmed  hat,  —  a  laugh  that  had  some- 
thing vaguely  familiar  in  its  tones.  Then  the 
disguised  voice  went  on  :  — 

"  Heard  ye  never  of  friends  at  court  ? 
Ah  !  "  more  seriously.  "  His  Majesty  hath 
been  informed,  and  it  likes  him  not,  of  your 
connection  with  this  plot,  but  you  have  true 
hearts  to  rely  upon  in  the  very  shadow  of  the 
king's  displeasure.  Will  you  place  your  de- 
pendence upon  them?" 

Giles  glanced  towards  his  companion.  Jan 
returned  the  look.  "  Yes,"  said  they  both. 

The  groom  fell  respectfully  behind  them  on 
the  walk  towards  the  river. 

"  Where  have  I  heard  that  voice  before  ?  " 
mused  Giles.  "  It  is  feigned,  yet  it  is  that  of 
some  one  I  have  known.  Who  is  it,  Jan  ?  " 

"  I  have  no  idea,"  was  the  answer.  "  There 
is  nothing  to  recall  any  one  whatsoever  to  my 
mind." 

They  spied  a  boat  lying  out  in  the  Thames, 
and  a  slim  little  figure  waiting  for  them  on 
the  bank.  He  motioned  to  the  oarsmen,  who 
approached.  Then  he  stepped  close  to  Giles. 
It  was  George  Earl. 

To  Giles's  boundless  astonishment  he  threw 


116  IN   TIIE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

both  arms  about  him  and  sobbed  upon  his 
shoulder.  "  Should  they  seize  thee  yet !  "  he 
cried.  "  Dear,  dear  lad,  make  haste  and 
away !  " 

"  Peace,  George,"  quoth  the  groom  impa- 
tiently. "  Thy  worry  may  work  the  very 
mischief  thou  fearest.  Here,  fellows  !  "  The 
hoarse,  unnatural  tones  had  been  forgotten 
in  the  outburst.  They  were  resumed  for  the 
boatmen's  benefit.  "  Take  the  woman  and 
the  child  on  board  with  ye." 

Giles  could  not  repress  a  smile  to  see  how 
the  servant  gave  orders  like  a  lord.  He  had 
penetrated  the  secret  now.  He  saw  through 
the  youthful  freak  of  the  heir  to  the  throne. 
In  the  bustle  he  caught  Henry's  hand.  It 
was  snatched  away,  but  not  before  he  had 
raised  it  to  his  lips. 

"  My  prince,  what  have  you  done  for 
me?" 

Henry's  eyes  were  fastened  upon  Jan  climb- 
ing down  into  the  boat.  He  wrung  Giles's 
fingers  in  his  hearty  grasp. 

"  Thou  wert  ready  to  save  my  life  from 
peril  at  Winchester.  This  is  only  fair  return, 
—  for  me  and  for  Earl,  remember." 

George  and  his  old  enemy  exchanged  a 
murmured  farewell.  The  two  upon  the  em- 


PEINCE  HENRY  AND  CAPTAIN  SMITH     117 

bankment  watched  them,  waving  a  last  greet- 
ing, while  the  little  craft  dropped  down  the 
stream.  They  arrived  at  the  waiting  barge, 
where  they  were  evidently  expected.  They 
were  taken  on  board.  The  anchor  was 
weighed.  For  the  first  time  the  two  boys 
breathed  freely. 

It  was  only  when  the  passing  dread  of  cap- 
ture was  gone  that  they  began  to  contemplate 
a  future  which,  in  truth,  was  none  of  the 
brightest.  From  Ostend,  that  port  riddled 
by  the  Spaniards  five  years  before,  they  must 
seek  the  Chapelains  at  Sluys,  across  a  coun- 
try desolated  by  the  long  war.  They  would 
be  incumbered  in  their  movements  by  the 
presence  of  a  woman  and  a  helpless  child. 
After  Jan's  uncle  was  reached,  they  could  not 
foresee  their  next  step.  He  of  course  could 
take  charge  of  Meg  and  her  nurse.  But  the 
boys  had  no  desire  to  return  with  him  to 
Paris. 

"  What  I  should  like  best,"  said  Giles, 
"  would  be  to  fight  under  Prince  Maurice,  as 
my  father  did  before  me." 

"  And  my  father,"  Jan  rejoined.  "  Yes,  if 
my  uncle  would  consent  to  that,  we  should 
know  what  to  do.  But  we  are  so  young  !  " 

"  So  young  for  what  ?  "  asked  some  one. 


118  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

They  were  lying  on  deck  in  the  sun,  their 
backs  set  against  a  coil  of  rope,  their  eyes 
strained  to  catch  the  last  glimpse  of  the 
English  coast.  Another  passenger  had  been 
pacing  up  and  down  before  them.  Their 
discussion  was  so  earnest  that  they  had  paid 
no  heed  to  him.  Now  he  paused  beside 
the  friends,  and  they  stared  up,  startled,  into 
his  smiling  face.  He  was  a  fine-looking 
man,  though  weather-beaten  and  scarred.  His 
smile  was  kindly  and  interested. 

"  What  are  ye  too  young  to  do  ?  "  he  de- 
manded again. 

The  boys  scrambled  into  more  respectful 
attitudes. 

"To  fight  for  the  Netherlands,  sir,"  said 
Giles. 

The  stranger  seated  himself  beside  them  on 
the  coil  of  rope. 

"  You  might  be  admitted  on  a  war  vessel," 
he  suggested,  with  instant  sympathy.  "  Would 
ye  fancy  an  ocean  life  ?  " 

"  Oh,  sir,  it  would  be  the  very  thing  !  " 

"  Ye  are  about  the  same  years,  are  you 
not?" 

"  There  are  only  four  months  between  us. 
We  are  each  thirteen." 

"  Ay,   I   guessed   right.      I   was   thirteen 


PRINCE  HENRY  AND  CAPTAIN   SMITH     119 

when  I  quitted  my  master  in  London  and 
ran  away  to  sea." 

The  boys  looked  at  him.  "  Had  you  many 
adventures,  sir  ?  " 

Their  new  acquaintance  laughed  outright. 

"  Some  few,"  he  said.  "  I  have  been  in 
France  and  the  Low  Countries,  in  Italy  and 
Egypt.  I  have  fought  the  Turks  in  Hungary, 
and  conquered  the  Pagans  in  single  combat. 
I  have  been  slave  to  the  Bashaw  of  Nalbrits, 
and  escaped  from  his  tyranny  as  by  a  miracle. 
I  am  just  returned  from  the  wars  in  Morocco, 
and  have  lifted  my  battle-axe  in  Spain.  Yea, 
lads,  you  say  truly  I  have  had  my  share  of 
adventure,  when  it  comes  to  that." 

The  boys'  eyes  shone.  Their  breath  came 
quicker.  "  Tell  us  more,"  pleaded  Giles. 

"  No  more  of  my  past.  I  will  tell  thee 
what  I  plan  now.  I  go  to  the  Netherlands, 
to  seek  a  friend,  one  Henry  Hudson,  with 
whom  I  hope  to  arrange  for  sailing  in  the 
Western  seas.  Thou  hast  heard  the  tales  of 
the  Spaniards'  prizes?  Of  the  treasure  they 
find  in  the  Indies  ?  " 

"  Ay,  that  have  we."  Jan  sprang  to  his 
feet.  "  Oh,  sir,  take  us  with  you  !  " 

"  No,  no." 

Giles  joined  in  the  entreaty. 


120  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

"  'T  is  not  to  be  thought  of,"  answered 
Captain  John  Smith,  for  it  was  he.  "  Should 
your  parents  consent "  — 

"  We  are  orphans." 

"  Your  guardians,  then  :  were  they  willing, 
I  would  not  subject  ye  to  the  hardships  and 
the  chances  of  such  a  life.  Nay,  nay.  Wait 
a  few  years.  There  will  be  opportunities,  no 
lack." 

He  eyed  the  disappointed  countenances  with 
considerable  compassion.  "  This  I  will  do," 
he  said.  "  I  will  speak  of  ye  both  to  Hudson. 
I  will  bear  you  in  mind  myself.  Should  I 
make  a  later  voyage,  or  should  my  friend, 
when  you  are  grown  but  a  little  older,  —  and, 
it  may  be,  wiser,  —  I  will  surely  send  ye  word. 
You  shall  have  your  chance  to  go  with  me 
then." 

This  was  far  from  contenting  them,  but 
they  gave  him  their  names,  and  told  him 
where  trace  of  them  could  always  be  obtained. 

"  You  will  make  the  right  sort  of  pioneers, 
I  can  see  that,"  said  Captain  Smith  consol- 
ingly. "  All  in  good  time,  my  lads.  But  I 
deemed  ye  both  eager  to  join  the  forces  of 
the  States  General.  Why  this  change  of 
mind?" 

Jan  tried  to  explain.     "  It  is  my  country," 


PRINCE  HENRY  AND  CAPTAIN  SMITH     121 

said  he,  "  and  my  father  died  in  its  defense, 
as  did  Giles's,  though  he  was  an  Englishman. 
Of  course  we  would  defend  it,  too.  Still, 
men  say  the  war  is  drawing  to  a  close.  And 
oh,  sir,  a  new  life  in  a  new  land,  —  that  is 
the  best  fate  of  all." 

"I  agree  with  thee."  The  man's  eyes 
kindled,  too,  at  the  ardent  tone.  "  Thou  'rt 
right.  There  's  naught  like  that  in  this  world. 
I  hope  it  will  be  the  lot  of  ye  both." 

"It  shall  be!"  Giles  cried.  "I  sicken 
when  I  think  of  England  tangled  in  count- 
less plots ;  of  the  Low  Countries  and  of  Ger- 
many, prostrate  under  the  weight  of  conflict ; 
of  France  with  its  religious  factions.  I  long 
to  live  my  life  in  a  new,  free  world,  and 
shape  it  for  myself." 

"  We  two  together,"  said  Jan,  clasping 
his  hand. 

The  man  smiled  gently  at  their  enthusiasm. 
"  You  will  win  your  desire  some  day,"  he 
assured  them,  "  if  you  desire  it  with  all  your 
heart." 

At  Ostend  they  parted  from  their  new 
friend,  but  not  before  he  had  given  them  in- 
valuable aid,  from  his  varied  experience  and 
his  knowledge  of  the  Netherlands,  as  to  their 
further  journey.  They  saw  all  about  them, 


122  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS   OF  OLD 

at  the  seaport,  relics  of  the  hideous  siege. 
The  country  through  which  they  now  traveled 
showed  signs  everywhere  of  a  generation  of 
war.  Yet  what  a  marvelous  land  it  was ! 
These  fields  of  rich  grass  supported  oxen  of 
fabulous  weight,  and  sheep  and  calves  with- 
out number.  Wherever  the  natural  fertility 
of  the  Netherlands  had  not  been  frustrated, 
for  the  time,  by  troops  of  soldiers  and  by 
battle,  the  travelers  could  bear  witness,  even 
in  these  dismal  times,  to  the  prosperous  indus- 
try of  its  inhabitants. 

So  they  arrived  at  Sluys.  Poor  little  Meg 
was  delighted  by  the  sight  of  Jan's  sister. 
Giles  thought  Annemie  grown  prettier  than 
ever.  She  was  but  one  year  his  junior,  and 
resembled  her  French  mother  in  her  gayety 
and  her  dark-eyed  beauty,  as  Jan  exactly 
reproduced  his  father's  strong  Dutch  features. 
Mme.  Chapelain  gave  the  young  people  a 
motherly  reception  that  comforted  Giles  in 
regard  to  his  sister's  future  care.  Her  hus- 
band was  absorbed  in  his  own  affairs,  but 
more  careless  than  selfish,  or  indifferent  to 
his  ward's  best  interests. 

He  was  soon  to  return  to  France,  the  ser- 
vice which  had  brought  him  hither  having 
been  successfully  performed.  He  listened, 


PEINCE  HENRY  AND   CAPTAIN  SMITH     123 

however,  attentively,  to  the  boys'  plans,  and 
was  somewhat  influenced  by  them. 

"  I  see  no  reason,"  he  said  reflectively, 
"  why  you  should  not  strike  a  blow  in  behalf 
of  the  poor  Netherlands.  Young  as  you  are, 
you  have  proved  yourselves  brave  and  apt.  I 
will  see  what  can  be  done :  I  have  an  acquaint- 
ance with  the  envoy  in  Paris,  who  gave  me  a 
letter  to  his  father,  Recorder  Aerssens,  at  the 
Hague.  I  have  used  it  for  myself.  Now  I 
will  use  it  for  you.  You  shall  go  to  him,  and 
offer  your  services.  He  can  best  put  you  in 
the  way  of  seeing  a  little  gunpowder  burned. 
I  agree  with  you,  lads,  that  there  is  no  educa- 
tion, in  these  times,  like  a  taste  of  warfare. 
Aerssens  will  manage  that  you  have  it." 

It  was  nearer  to  them  than  the  Hague,  but 
this  they  did  not  imagine.  While  they  all 
lingered  on  at  Sluys,  there  came  an  adventure 
which  Giles  was  not  to  forget,  and  which 
Jan  never  ceased  regretting  did  not  fall,  in 
part,  to  him  to  share. 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE  TOWN  CLOCK  AT  SLUYS 

IT  was  a  lovely  night  in  June.  Giles  could 
not  sleep,  although  he  could  give  no  reason 
for  his  wakefulness.  He  counted  hour  after 
hour  by  the  tall  clock  on  the  staircase,  out- 
side his  room.  He  listened  enviously  to  Jan's 
regular  breathing.  He  tossed  and  turned, 
and  sprang  from  his  bed  to  walk  up  and  down 
the  little  room,  hoping  thus  to  induce  drowsi- 
ness. 

The  night  was  drawing  towards  dawn,  and 
he  had  scarcely  closed  his  eyes. 

"  It  is  clear  and  calm  outside,"  he  mused, 
drawing  the  spotless  curtain  to  peer  from  the 
window,  "  or  I  should  think  it  must  be  thun- 
der in  the  air  that  has  so  wrought  upon  me. 
Plainly,  it  is  of  no  use  to  try  to  rest.  I  shall 
dress  quietly,  and  steal  out  of  the  house. 
Perhaps  a  long  stroll  through  the  peaceful 
streets  will  be  the  best  cure  for  my  wretched 
excitement,  after  all." 

No  sooner  thought  than  done.     He  pulled 


THE  TOWN  CLOCK  AT  SLUYS  125 

on  his  clothes,  and  took  a  last  look  at  his 
sleeping  comrade,  with  the  reflection :  — 

"  Poor  fellow  !  It  would  be  barbarous  to 
wake  him,  or  how  he  would  enjoy  a  mid- 
night prowl ! " 

He  glided  softly  down  the  stairs,  pushed 
the  bolt  quickly,  and  let  fall  the  chain.  In 
another  instant  he  stood  in  the  street  out- 
side. 

He  had  no  definite  plan  for  a  walk.  He 
rambled  about  altogether  at  random.  Only 
the  night  before,  he  had  overheard  Monsieur 
Chapelain  discussing  with  a  friend  the  absurd 
rumor  that  Du  Terrail  was  contemplating  an 
attack  upon  the  town.  Both  had  laughed*  at 
the  notion.  Sluys  was  defended  by  a  chain 
of  forts  and  water  batteries,  and  by  a  mag- 
nificent citadel.  It  may  be  that,  ridiculous 
as  the  idea  appeared,  it  had  had  more  effect 
upon  one  listener  than  he  supposed.  The 
remembrance  of  Du  Terrail's  project  may 
have  driven  away  his  sleep. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  Giles  was  pondering  it 
while  he  walked.  Since  the  attempt  must 
result  in  failure,  would  it  not  be  a  lively  bit 
of  action  where  all  had  moved  tamely  for  so 
long  ?  There  was  no  danger  of  any  repeti- 
tion of  the  horrors  of  Ostend,  for  instance. 


126  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS   OF  OLD 

"  We  can  repel  them  with  the  first  shot," 
he  reflected.  "  We  can  so  silence  them  — 
What  is  that  ?  " 

In  his  aimless  course,  he  had  reached  the 
vicinity  of  the  western  gate.  He  heard  the 
stealthy  tread  of  armed  men  close  at  hand. 
There  was  the  undertoned  direction,  the 
hushed  step  of  soldiers  marching  in  silence, 
yet  with  the  inevitable  clanking  of  their 
weapons. 

This  could  mean  nothing  else  but  mischief. 
What  mischief,  Giles  resolved  straightway  to 
discover. 

Keeping  in  the  shade  of  the  tall,  peaked 
houses,  moving  like  a  very  shadow  himself,  he 
crept  closer  to  the  oncoming  troops.  He 
could  hear  the  drip  of  wet  clothing,  the  mut- 
tered complaints  of  those  who,  he  afterwards 
learned,  had  waded  through  the  submerged 
land  of  Cadzand.  They  had  stolen  past  the 
forts  without  detection.  Their  petards  had 
forced  a  breach  in  the  gate ;  through  this, 
he  made  out,  the  intruders  were  pushing,  two 
by  two. 

They  had  entered  Sluys. 

It  was  time  for  immediate  action,  and  yet 
what  could  he  do  ?  All  sorts  of  wild  thoughts 
flew  distractedly  through  Giles's  brain  while 


THE  TOWN   CLOCK  AT  SLUYS  127 

the  men  filed  down  the  one  street,  and  he 
lurked  in  the  dark  corner  of  another,  watch- 
ing them  from  this  distance.  If  they  would 
only  speak  of  their  plans  !  If  he  could  tell 
what  the  next  move  was,  he  might  do  some- 
thing—  anything  —  to  circumvent  them. 

And  still  if  that  speech  should  be  in  Span- 
ish, or  German,  or  Dutch,  of  what  avail  would 
it  be  to  him  to  overhear  ?  He  understood 
nothing  save  his  own  tongue,  and  the  French 
that  Jan  and  he  always  used  together. 

At  last  one  soldier  ran  past,  with  lightest 
step,  and  another,  equally  cautious  and  still 
more  swift,  came  close  at  his  heels.  They 
were  both  Irishmen,  and,  by  the  happiest 
stroke  of  fortune,  they  addressed  each  other 
in  English. 

Giles  thanked  the  Lord  for  what  seemed 
a  special  providence.  He  craned  his  neck  to 
watch  the  two  men  and  listen  to  their  dis- 
putes. 

One  was  urging  some  scheme  which  his 
comrade  stoutly  opposed.  "  No,  no,"  he  re- 
peated vehemently.  "  The  first  party  that 
makes  an  entrance  is  to  march  to  the  oppo- 
site end  of  the  city.  When  the  town  clock 
strikes  two,  there  is  to  be  a  simultaneous  at- 
tack upon  all  the  guard-houses.  The  garri- 


128  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

son  will  be  cut  down  at  one  great  blow.  Not 
that  way,  I  tell  thee.  Thou  seest  where  the 
others  are  going.  Ah,  here  comes  our  leader 
himself." 

There  was  a  little  confusion.  The  men  re- 
traced their  steps  towards  the  latest  arrivals 
through  the  narrow  gap  in  the  gate.  Giles, 
in  his  corner,  was  left  to  himself. 

Now  he  knew  what  to  do. 

Up  the  silent  street  he  ran  like  a  race-hound, 
away  and  away,  his  feet  making  scarcely  a 
sound,  his  body  bent  forward,  his  hands 
clinched  at  his  sides.  The  soldiers,  mean- 
while, were  pouring  out  of  the  gateway,  and 
proceeding  through  the  cross-street,  as  he  had 
seen. 

He  must  reach  the  town  hall  and  the  clock. 
It  must  be  —  his  failing  breath  grew  fainter 
with  fear  —  now  very  close  to  the  appointed 
hour,  the  time  for  slaughter.  That  hour  must 
never  strike.  This  was  the  first  duty.  What 
lay  beyond  was  to  be  determined  afterwards. 

He  reached  the  frowning  building,  in  its 
narrow,  turreted  solemnity.  He  was  prepared 
for  the  barred  doors.  He  smiled  grimly  to 
himself,  while  he  dug  his  heels  and  toes  into 
the  smooth  brickwork,  and  drew  himself  up 
to  a  window-ledge. 


THE  TOWN  CLOCK  AT  SLUYS  129 

"  I  have  had  practice  in  house-breaking," 
he  thought,  — "  at  Vinegar  House  and  at 
White  Webbs." 

He  pried  open  the  sash  with  his  knife.  He 
dropped  down  inside  into  a  gulf  of  darkness. 
It  was  a  long  fall,  and  he  bruised  himself 
severely  where  he  struck  the  floor.  But  he 
was  on  his  feet  in  an  instant,  and  groping  his 
path  through  the  room.  Stairs  were  found 
after  a  sickening  delay,  and  after  more  than 
one  false  hope.  Every  moment,  every  second, 
counted,  and  there  were  so  many  delays  !  He 
climbed  up  and  up.  Sometimes  he  could  not 
touch  the  railing ;  sometimes  he  was  not 
certain  of  his  footing  in  that  utter  blackness. 
The  platforms  were  only  to  be  crept  across 
on  his  face,  lying  at  full  length,  while  his 
outreaching  fingers  clutched  for  the  edge. 
Should  Giles  make  one  false  move  now,  not 
only  he  might  be  dashed  to  pieces  in  unknown 
depths  below,  but  —  and  this  was  his  first 
thought  —  the  alarm  would  be  given,  the  gar- 
rison would  be  slain,  and  the  city  would  sur- 
render to  Du  Terrail. 

He  had  a  general  notion  where  the  works 
of  the  clock  must  stand.  He  had  seen  its 
round  visage  often  enough  in  his  comings 
and  goings  past  the  hall.  By  and  by  he 


130  IN   THE  BRAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

could  hear  the  loud,  steady  tick  that  guided 
his  dizzy  climbing.  There  was  a  rumble,  a 
premonitory  growl,  as  it  were,  in  the  ma- 
chinery. It  was  on  the  stroke  of  two. 

Giles  fell  forward.  He  thrust  out  one 
hand  and  caught  at  something,  he  knew  not 
what,  for  support.  With  the  other  arm  he 
pushed  away  recklessly  among  the  cogs  and 
wheels.  He  seized  the  pendulum ;  he  tugged 
at  the  weight.  His  fingers  were  torn  and 
bleeding.  He  paid  no  heed  to  anything  ex- 
cept this ;  he  had  stopped  the  clock.  The 
signal  would  never  sound. 

A  half  hour  later  the  governor,  Colonel 
Van  der  Noot,  was  roused  from  his  bed  by  a 
voice  outside  his  window.  He  sprang  up, 
rushed  to  the  sash,  and  called  lustily  in  re- 
turn. 

"  What  is  it  ?     Is  anything  amiss  ?  " 

"Hearken,"  said  an  English  voice.  "Do 
you  hear  the  trumpets  ?  " 

Every  one  could  hear  them  now.  They 
were  playing  a  Spanish  air.  It  sounded  in 
gay  triumph  through  the  Dutch  town. 

A  shout  clashed  with  the  music.  There 
was  an  indescribable  tumult  in  Sluys. 

The  governor  hurried  into  his  clothes. 
Half  dressed,  he  sprang  down  the  stairs  at 


THE  TOWN  CLOCK  AT  SLUTS  131 

a  flying  leap,  and  threw  himself  out  of  the 
door. 

Giles  hastened  forward  to  meet  him.  They 
ran  on  together,  the  boy  telling,  in  panting 
breaths,  what  he  had  learned  of  the  enemy's 
movements.  Fortunately,  there  had  been 
such  numbers  of  his  countrymen  in  the  Neth- 
erlands, from  time  to  time  engaged  in  the 
war,  that  many  Dutch  could  speak  and  un- 
derstand English.  The  governor  questioned 
him  closely.  Twelve  hundred  of  Du  Terrail's 
troops  had  entered  the  place.  They  feared 
a  possible  ambush,  making  their  progress 
through  the  town.  They  were  ever  on  the 
alert  for  an  onslaught.  Their  leader,  with 
some  of  his  men,  had  not  stirred  from  the 
western  gate.  They  stood  there  awaiting  the 
sign  for  the  attack  upon  the  guard-houses. 

The  guard  were  in  arms,  and  the  whole 
garrison.  From  every  house  thronged  men 
just  awakened  from  sleep,  but  prepared  for 
combat.  Colonel  Van  der  Noot  was  ready  to 
atone,  by  his  bravery,  for  the  false  security 
that  had  rendered  the  surprise  possible.  He 
led  the  irregular  army,  with  hastily  caught 
up  musket  and  pike.  Together  they  fell 
upon  the  venturesome  band  who  had  dared  to 
break  the  wall  of  Sluys. 


132  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

Giles  kept  close  to  the  governor.  He  had 
only  his  knife  for  weapon,  but  there  was  no 
need  for  his  offices.  The  intruders  were  re- 
pelled with  almost  ludicrous  haste. 

The  gap  in  the  gate  had  served  very  well 
to  gain  them  entrance  to  the  town.  It  was 
quite  another  matter  when  the  panic-stricken 
foreigners  pushed  by  each  other  in  their  en- 
deavors to  flee  through  the  same  narrow  pas- 
sage. It  was  a  picture  of  frantic  terror,  of 
tremendous  noise,  of  frightful  carnage.  Five 
hundred  of  the  enemy  were  killed  at  the  gate. 
Of  those  who  managed  to  escape,  the  larger 
number  were  drowned,  or  smothered  in  the 
marshes  that  lay  without  the  town  on  the 
road  they  had  taken  to  win  it. 

Giles  returned  to  a  household  all  agog  with 
the  events  of  the  night.  M.  Chapelain  and 
Jan  were  away.  Madame  shed  tears  of  pity 
over  the  boy's  torn  hand,  and  the  terribly 
bruised  shoulder  that  had  received  the  worst 
hurt  when  he  sprang  down  from  the  town 
hall  window.  His  old  nurse,  and  Annemie 
and  Meg,  treated  him  as  the  hero  of  the  whole 
affair. 

When  they  were  returned  and  had  heard  his 
story,  Jan  and  his  uncle  were  equally  proud  of 
the  exploit.  The  governor  sent  for  Giles 


THE  TOWN  CLOCK  AT  SLUYS  133 

during  the  day,  and  praised  the  boy's  fore- 
thought. He  questioned  him  in  regard  to 
his  future  movements,  and  delighted  the  boys 
by  saying  that  he  remembered  both  Wilhelm 
Verrooy  and  Anthony  Valentine. 

"  You  are  the  worthy  sons  of  your  fathers," 
he  said  in  faltering  English.  "  If  you  and 
young  Verrooy  like,  I  will  arrange  matters 
for  you.  You  say  you  wish  to  see  fighting. 
You  both  bore  yourselves  well  last  night.  I 
cannot  place  you  on  any  warship,  but  I  can 
send  you  —  and  I  will  —  to  Prince  Maurice. 
He  is  gathering  an  army  at  Deventer.  I  will 
give  you  letters  to  one  of  his  officers.  Will 
that  content  you  for  the  present,  young 
sirs?" 

Their  faces  beamed  with  pleasure.  It  was 
hardly  necessary  to  answer  Yes. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

WITH    PRINCE    MAURICE 

"  UGH,  what  a  climate !  "  exclaimed  Giles. 
"  I  begin  to  wonder  that  you  were  not  web- 
footed,  Jan." 

He  threw  aside  his  wet  cloak,  seating  him- 
self at  the  tent's  opening  before  the  glowing 
peat  fire. 

"  You  know  as  well  as  I  do  that  this  rainy 
season  is  no  less  remarkable  to  my  people  than 
to  you."  Jan  was  lounging,  in  a  languid 
attitude,  upon  the  edge  of  his  camp  bed.  He 
spoke  rather  tartly.  Giles  did  not  notice 
this,  rattling  on  with  his  complaints. 

"  Think  of  a  fire  at  midsummer,  too  !  "  He 
warmed  his  hands  at  the  pleasant  blaze.  "  It 
is  as  cold  to-day  as  it  was  when  we  reached 
the  Netherlands  last  winter." 

"And  you've  heard  it  said  a  thousand 
times,"  Jan  retorted,  —  "  the  soldiers  are  for- 
ever repeating  it,  —  that  no  such  summer  has 
ever  been  experienced  before.  It's  as  the 
commander  said  to  some  one  last  night :  (  All 


WITH  PRINCE  MAURICE  135 

the  seasons  have  come  together.  One  can't 
tell  whether  it  is  spring,  summer,  autumn,  or 
winter.'  ' 

He  stretched  himself  full  length  upon  the 
couch.  "  For  my  part,  I  don't  see  what  you 
mean  by  grumbling  about  the  cold.  I  am 
burning  with  heat,  myself." 

"  Why,  your  cheeks  are  like  fire ! "  Giles 
said,  regarding  him  curiously  for  the  first 
time.  "  Are  you  ill,  Jan  ?  " 

"  No,  no  !  I  feel  well  enough  except  for  the 
heat.  What  are  they  doing  outside  ?  " 

"  They  are  all  gathered  on  the  river  bank. 
If  you  really  are  equal  to  it  —  I  don't  like 
your  looks  myself  —  we  might  go  down  there 
and  see  the  enemy's  attempts  to  cross." 

The  war  that  had  lasted  for  forty  years  was 
drawing  to  a  close.  Its  cost  to  the  Nether- 
lands, in  what  that  fertile  land  had  suffered, 
might  be  readily  seen  and  estimated.  Its 
money  cost  to  Spain  was  reckoned  at  more 
than  $300,000  monthly.  The  Marquis  Spi- 
nola,  the  great  Spanish  leader,  had  been  very 
ill.  It  was  hoped  that  the  Dutch  would  strike 
decisively,  and  end  the  contest,  during  his  en- 
forced absence  from  the  field  of  action.  But 
Holland's  coffers,  too,  were  almost  emptied. 
Prince  Maurice  was  hampered  by  lack  of 


136  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

money  and  of  soldiers.  Another  delay  was 
caused  by  a  dispute  between  Henry  Fourth 
and  the  Duke  of  Bouillon.  It  was  relative  to 
this  last  matter  that  M.  Chapelain  had  visited 
the  Netherlands. 

Early  in  June,  Spinola  arrived  in  Brussels. 
Assembling  a  large  force,  he  divided  it  into 
two  parts,  one  of  which  he  gave  to  the  com- 
mand of  Bucquoy,  with  10,000  foot,  12  guns, 
and  1200  cavalry.  This  army  reached  Mook, 
on  the  Meuse,  on  the  18th  of  July.  Spinola 
on  the  same  day  occupied  Goor,  in  Overyssel, 
with  11,000  infantry,  2000  horse,  and  8  guns, 
having  crossed  the  Rhine  at  the  redoubts 
of  Ruhrort.  But  his  plans  to  repeat  his  cam- 
paign of  1605  were  frustrated  by  the  weather, 
at  which  Giles  had  just  now  been  railing. 
The  roads  became  rivers,  and  the  rivers  lakes. 
Friesland  was  an  impassable  bog.  Turning 
away  from  the  east,  he  set  out  for  the  west, 
in  execution  of  a  plan  which  he  had  long 
had  in  mind. 

The  Yssel  and  the  Waal  rivers  formed,  as 
it  were,  two  moats  on  the  sides  of  a  vast 
natural  fortress  guarding  Utrecht,  through 
which  lay  the  route  to  Holland  and  Zeeland. 
Could  Spinola  but  obtain  the  control  of  those 
two  streams,  he  might  yet,  by  the  invincible 


WITH  FEIN CE  MAURICE  137 

position  he  would  then  hold,  put  an  end  to 
the  Dutch  rebellion  at  one  stroke.  Should 
he  pass  the  rivers,  he  could  bring  his  two 
forces  together  and  the  thing  was  done. 

The  importance  of  every  movement  at  this 
juncture  was  fully  appreciated  upon  both 
sides.  The  defense  of  the  Waal  had  been 
given  by  Maurice  to  Warner  Du  Bois,  with 
7000  men.  They  were  to  prevent  the  pas- 
sage of  Bucquoy's  troops.  He  himself  was 
pitted  against  Spinola. 

Jan's  uncle  had  taken  his  family  with  him 
and  gone  back  to  France.  There  was  a  new 
sense  of  desolation  when  the  friends  watched 
their  departure,  and  felt  that,  through  their 
own  deliberate  choice,  they  were  turned  out 
upon  the  world.  Mme.  Chapelain  assured 
them  of  the  welcome  they  would  find  in  Paris 
at  any  time  they  chose  to  claim  it.  The 
boys  bade  them  all  farewell,  and  then  set  out 
for  Spardorp  and  Du  Bois,  to  whose  protec- 
tion the  governor  of  Sluys  had  commended 
them.  And  thus,  on  this  wet  summer  day, 
that  might,  so  far  as  weather  was  con- 
cerned, have  been  midwinter,  they  were  spec- 
tators of  the  last  land  action  in  the  revolt  of 
the  Low  Countries. 

When   the   two    reached   the    river,   they 


138  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

beheld  its  yellow,  swollen  tide  rolling  upon  a 
scene  of  most  curious  interest  and  activity. 
Armed  vessels  dotted  its  waters ;  armed  men 
lined  the  banks  like  a  wall.  There  was  a 
dead  silence  among  the  watchers. 

Upon  the  opposite  banks  one  Pompeio 
Giustiniani  was  making  preparations  to  cross 
the  stream.  A  number  of  barges  set  out  from 
shore.  The  Dutch  noted  eagerly  the  ap- 
proach of  the  boats.  It  was  obvious  what 
they  meant  to  do.  As  they  drew  nearer,  it 
could  be  seen  that  they  were  full  of  troops. 

"  Huzza !  "  cried  Jan. 

He  tossed  his  cap  into  the  air.  He  had 
noticed  the  first  boat  slacken  its  speed.  He 
saw  the  boatmen  turn  its  course.  The  com- 
mander pushed  forward  and  began  an  agi- 
tated remonstrance.  He  waved  his  hand 
towards  Du  Bois.  They  could  catch  the 
sound  of  his  loud  tones  in  his  effort  to  cheer 
his  men,  and  impel  them  on  in  the  dangerous 
struggle  for  victory.  Through  the  dropping 
rain,  the  whistle  of  the  bleak  wind,  the  rush- 
ing of  the  mighty  river,  the  imploring,  cajol- 
ing, threatening  voice  was  wafted  to  the  bank 
of  the  Waal.  The  solid  ranks  of  men  waited 
the  result  in  dogged  determination,  their  eyes 
fastened  upon  the  wavering  line  of  boats. 


WITH  PEINCE  MAURICE  139 

"Huzza!" 

Jan's  cry  was  caught  up  from  a  thousand 
throats.  The  first  boat  fell  away.  It  dropped 
down  the  stream.  The  next,  and  the  next: 
one  by  one,  the  advancing  enemy  beat  the 
same  retreat.  Upon  the  pretext  that  the  cur- 
rent here  was  too  strong  for  them,  they  re- 
sisted every  entreaty  or  command.  Gradually 
they  stole  back  to  their  comrades  upon  the 
shore. 

An  ear-piercing  shout  of  derision  followed 
them  as  they  went.  A  Spanish  officer  in  the 
last  of  the  straggling  line  shook  his  sword  in 
impotent  wrath  at  the  Hollanders. 

Upon  the  Yssel,  Maurice  was  keeping  the 
same  effective  guard.  In  vain  did  the  cun- 
ning Spinola  move  from  point  to  point,  watch- 
ing his  chance  to  break  through  the  line  of 
forts  hastily  thrown  up  by  the  stadholder. 
There  was  no  weak  spot.  It  was  all  defended 
beyond  surprise. 

"  It  is  like  a  cat  and  a  mouse,"  said  Giles, 
"  only  that  in  this  case  the  mouse  seems  to 
have  the  best  of  it." 

"  The  cat  has  effected  something,"  Jan 
answered  from  the  bed.  "  He  has  captured 
Lochem  "  — 

"  Pooh  !  what  was  that  tiny  town  ?     There 


140  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

was  no  glory,  and  not  much  profit,  in  taking 
a  place,  with  next  to  no  garrison,  that  surren- 
dered without  a  struggle." 

"  I  know  all  that,"  Jan  pettishly  replied. 
"  But  there  is  Groll,  too.  Spinola  has  taken 
Groll,  and  they  say  he  is  on  the  march  to 
Rheinberg.  Oh,  Giles,  how  cold  I  am  !  " 

His  tone  had  altered  abruptly.  His  lips 
became  blue.  His  teeth  chattered.  Giles 
flew  to  his  side  in  alarm. 

"  You  are  like  ice,"  he  murmured,  catching 
the  boy's  hand  in  his.  "  What  shall  I  do  ? 
I  will  run  for  help,  if  you  can  be  left  alone." 

For  he  thought  his  friend  was  dying. 

Jan  made  no  answer.  Giles  looked  about 
him  distractedly.  He  flung  every  covering 
that  was  at  hand  upon  the  bed.  He  seized  a 
can  of  water  and  ran  to  the  fire  to  heat  it. 
He  really  did  not  dare  quit  the  bedside,  but 
the  measures  he  took  were  quite  as  effective 
as  anything  could  be  in  the  course  of  such  a 
chill.  He  made  Jan  drink  the  scalding  water, 
and  put  a  bottle  of  it  to  his  feet.  In  his  hur- 
ried search  for  another  can,  a  small  packet 
fell  out  of  the  doublet  he  had  tossed  aside. 

Some  recollection,  vaguely  distressing,  was 
roused  by  its  sight.  Giles  knit  his  brows : 
why  did  the  squarely  folded  paper  bring  up 


WITH  PRINCE  MAUEICE  141 

to  his  mind  another  time  of  illness  and  of 
harassment  ? 

"  I  have  it !  "  he  cried,  relieved.  "  It  was 
one  day  at  York,  in  the  course  of  the  royal 
progress.  How  long  ago  it  seems !  My 
guardian  was  taken  down  with  a  sickness 
like  this,  and  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  heard  of  it. 
He  sent  us,  through  his  Majesty's  surgeon,  a 
powder  that,  he  said,  the  Indians  use  and  find 
that  it  works  marvels.  Dear  Jan,  it  is  Provi- 
dence that  brings  it  to  light  in  our  need.  I 
have  found  the  cure  !  All  will  soon  be  right." 

Much  cheered  at  the  belief,  he  mixed  a 
draught  and  brought  it  to  the  bedside. 
"  Don't  refuse  it  because  it  is  bitter,"  he 
begged.  "  I  remember  the  outcry  Sir  Robert 
made.  He  said  the  cinchona  was  worse  than 
the  chill." 

Jan  was  too  ill  to  listen  to  much  of  this 
harangue.  However,  he  mustered  the  spirit 
to  determine  that  he  would  show  more  forti- 
tude than  Carey.  He  swallowed  the  dose  at 
a  mouthful,  and  lay  back  upon  his  couch. 

A  shadow  darkened  the  tent  opening.  Giles 
looked  up  from  resettling  his  patient  under 
the  pile  of  clothes.  Warner  Du  Bois  stood 
looking  in  upon  them.  Behind  him,  and 
glancing  over  his  shoulder,  was  another  war- 


142  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

rior.  He  was  clad  in  a  complete  suit  of 
armor,  and  carried  a  helmet,  with  waving 
orange  plumes,  in  his  right  hand.  Giles  no- 
ted abstractedly  his  fair,  round  face,  his 
large  blue  eyes,  the  scanty  locks  that  crowned 
his  head.  He  bowed  to  the  two  men,  and 
moved  aside  as  they  entered  the  tent. 

"  What  is  the  matter  here  ? "  asked  the 
stranger  in  Dutch. 

Du  Bois  hastily  interposed.  He  explained 
that  Giles  was  an  Englishman.  The  boy 
heard  his  name  used,  and  his  father's.  A 
pleasant  smile  crossed  the  soldier's  face.  He 
held  out  his  hand,  saying  in  English :  — 

"I  remember  Anthony  Valentine  well.  I 
am  glad  to  meet  his  son  in  the  field  where 
he  died  in  our  behalf.  For  his  sake  I  would 
do  aught  that  I  could  for  you.  What  is 
wrong  here  ?  " 

He  approached  the  bedside.  Du  Bois 
whispered  to  Giles  :  — 

"  It  is  the  prince." 

Jan  answered  the  kindly  questions  as  well 
as  his  miserable  condition  would  permit. 
Maurice  listened  attentively.  Giles  stepped 
forward. 

"  It  has  been  so  with  him,"  he  said,  "  ever 
since  we  reached  the  Waal.  First  a  fever, 


WITH  PRINCE  MAURICE  143 

and  then  a  chill.  He  has  not  heen  able  to 
escape  one  or  the  other,  though  none  ere  this 
hath  been  so  severe." 

"Ay,  ay,  I  see,"  the  stallholder  replied. 
"  We  must  get  him  out  of  this  quagmire ; 
that  is  the  first  thing.  Then  —  a  sea  voyage 
would  be  the  surest  remedy  of  all."  His 
quick  gaze,  roving  from  one  face  to  the  other, 
caught  the  expression  of  pleasure  that  crossed 
them  both.  "  You  would  like  that  better 
than  sitting  in  this  bog?"- 

"  Oh,  sir,  it  is  the  wish  of  our  hearts  to 
embark  on  a  war  vessel  and  see  action  upon 
the  water." 

"  Would  that  all  desires  could  be  so  easily 
gratified,"  said  Maurice.  He  glanced  towards 
Du  Bois.  "  Admiral  Haultain,"  he  continued, 
"  is  to  sail  but  shortly  for  the  Spanish  coast 
to  pick  up  a  golden  prize.  'Tis  the  very 
adventure  in  which  these  youths  would  de- 
light." 

He  spoke  in  his  own  tongue.  Jan  answered 
him.  His  chill  was  departing.  His  eyes  spar- 
kled so  brilliantly  that  his  friend  feared  the 
fever  had  returned. 

"I  should  not  ask  more  of  fortune,"  said 
he.  "  And  Giles,  here,  is  of  the  same  mind. 
If  the  admiral  will  take  us  "  — 


144  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

"  The  admiral  will  take  you,"  Prince  Mau- 
rice interrupted  haughtily.  "  I  shall  do  my 
part.  Come,  my  lad,  you  must  hasten  to  re- 
cover sufficiently  to  be  moved.  That  is  your 
share  of  the  compact." 

With  that  he  quitted  the  tent,  with  Du 
Bois,  and  left  them  to  talk  it  all  over  to- 
gether. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

KLAASZOON     THE    MAETYE 

THE  boys  were  full  of  excitement,  not  only 
at  the  prospect  of  sailing  at  all,  but  of  sailing 
in  a  fleet  commanded  by  Haultain.  They 
had  heard,  in  the  previous  year,  of  his  exploit 
off  Dover, —  how  he  bound  Sarmiento's  Span- 
ish legion  two  and  two  together,  and  tossed 
them  into  the  sea.  They  knew  him  for  a 
cruel  man,  and  they  believed,  with  the  general 
belief,  that  he  was  as  brave  as  he  was  severe. 
They  were  speedily  to  learn  the  truth  of  this. 

Nineteen  war  galleots  of  the  first  class  and 
two  well-equipped  yachts  comprised  the  squad- 
ron. The  vice-admiral  was  Regnier  Klaas- 
zoon,  from  Amsterdam.  "  They  say  he,  too, 
has  the  spirit  of  a  lion,"  Jan  informed  his 
friend. 

Jan  was  already  much  improved  in  health, 
whether  due  to  Raleigh's  medicine,  or  to. 
Maurice's,  could  not  be  determined.  Both 
were  transported  with  delight  as  they  coasted, 
day  after  day,  along  the  shore  of  Western 


146  JN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

Europe.  A  few  months  before,  the  admiral 
had  made  the  same  voyage  for  the  like  .pur- 
pose, —  to  watch  for  and  to  overcome  the  out- 
going Portuguese  merchantmen,  and  the  fleets 
homeward  bound,  gold-laden,  from  America. 
He  had  not  effected  much  at  that  time.  The 
merchantmen  had  unloaded  their  cargoes,  and 
postponed  their  voyage  to  the  East  Indies. 
Nothing  was  to  be  seen  of  the  American  ves- 
sels, and  he  had  lost  six  of  his  own  ships  in  a 
storm.  Now  he  was  returned  on  a  further 
search  for  the  treasures  of  Mexico  and  Peru. 

They  learned  soon  that  the  treasure  fleet 
had  not  yet  arrived,  and  were  constantly  upon 
the  lookout  for  the  first  sign  of  its  approach. 
They  feh1  in  with  several  merchant  ships  which 
they  chased  into  harbor.  Two  or  three  land- 
ings were  made  and  a  village  was  burned. 
The  sight  was  horrid  to  Giles  and  his  com- 
panion, although  they  had  been  trained  in 
a  rough  school  of  constant  conflict. 

Then  fell  a  heavy  storm.  It  lasted  a  day 
and  a  night.  The  friends  were  thankful 
that  they  were  together,  when  hour  after  hour 
seemed  likely  to  be  their  last.  They  were 
still  more  grateful  that  they  had  not  been 
stationed  on  different  ships  when  the  second 
morning  broke.  Six  vessels  were  gone. 


KLAASZOON   THE  MAETYB  147 

It  was  a  fortnight  later.  They  had  been 
cruising,  in  tedious  monotony,  off  Cape  St. 
Vincent,  when  Jan  was  sent  aloft  to  scan  the 
horizon.  He  shielded  his  eyes  with  his  hand, 
and  gazed  searchingly  out  into  the  west. 
Those  on  the  deck  awaited  the  result  of  this 
oft-repeated  outlook. 

"  They  must  come  soon !  "  muttered  the 
admiral,  pacing  up  and  down. 

"  A  sail !  "  cried  Jan.  There  was  a  faint 
stir.  "  Another  !  And  another  !  The  ocean 
is  white  with  them.  It  is  the  fleet !  " 

There  was  a  shout  of  rapture.  Men  flew 
here  and  there,  in  obedience  to  hurried 
words  of  command.  Giles  wondered  that  Jan 
tarried  at  his  post.  He  looked  aloft,  and  saw 
him  still  clinging  with  one  arm  to  the  mast, 
still  shading  his  eyes  with  his  other  hand  and 
looking  out  to  sea.  He  stood,  struck  by  a 
strange  sense  of  something  amiss. 

Jan  descended  from  his  perch.  He  crossed 
the  deck  to  where  the  admiral  stood.  That 
worthy's  features  were  wreathed  in  smiles. 

"  What,  lad,"  he  cried  boisterously.  "  Why 
that  long  face,  as  if  you  did  not  like  the 
prospect  ?  You  saw  the  squadron  ?  " 

Jan  shook  his  head.  "  It  was  not  the 
squadron." 


148  IN   THE  HEAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

Haul  tain  took  a  step  to  Avar  ds  him.  His 
fierce  eyes  blazed  with  rage.  He  lifted  one 
arm  to  strike  the  boy.  "  Have  you  deceived 
us  ?  "  he  demanded  hoarsely.  "  What  does 
this  fooling  mean  ?  Speak,  rogue,  or  it  will 
be  the  worse  for  you  !  " 

Jan  drew  himself  up  proudly.  "  I  reported 
what  I  saw,"  he  answered.  "  But  those  are 
no  merchantmen.  See  for  yourself."  He 
pointed  to  the  distance.  "  They  are  Spanish 
warships,  and  they  outnumber  us  three  to 
one." 

The  admiral  ran  to  the  vessel's  side.  He 
could  indeed  see  for  himself.  Bearing  down 
upon  them,  now  coming  plainly  into  view, 
was  the  largest  fleet  that  had  sailed  those 
waters  in  many  years.  Eighteen  galleons 
Jan  had  counted,  and  eight  galleys,  besides 
a  number  of  smaller  vessels.  It  was  a  sight 
to  alarm  the  stoutest  heart,  knowing  their 
own  resources,  and  seeing  how  terribly  the 
odds  were  in  the  Spaniards'  favor. 

Haultain  issued  an  instant  order  for  a  con- 
ference with  his  chief  officers.  The  men 
stood  meanwhile  about  the  decks  muttering 
to  each  other.  They  eyed  the  approaching 
ships,  some  of  them  with  gloomy  prophecies 
as  to  the  result  of  a  meeting ;  others  defiant, 


KLAASZOON*  THE  MARTYR  149 

or  vaingloriously  sure  that  the  Dutch  could 
follow  up  their  prowess  on  the  seas  by  a  vic- 
tory in  the  teeth  of  such  forces  brought 
against  them. 

The  hurried  conference  was  over.  The 
officers  hastened  back  to  their  vessels,  the 
vice-admiral  shaking  his  head  in  gloomy 
dissatisfaction. 

"  I  don't  like  that,"  Giles  said  aside.  Jan 
and  he  were  watching  the  boat  speed  on  its 
course  through  the  water.  "  See  how  Klaas- 
zoon  sits  in  the  stern,  his  head  on  his  breast, 
his  forehead  set  in  a  frown.  He  is  displeased 
with  the  decision,  whatever  it  may  be." 

"  I  am  afraid  we  may  all  wish  it  other  than 
it  is,"  Jan  answered.  "  You  could  see  the 
spirit  of  the  men  just  now  in  what  they  said. 
Flight  would  be  cowardice,  and  yet  it  looks 
very  much  as  if  we  were  to  end  by  running 
away." 

Giles  nodded.     "  Hear  that,"  he  whispered. 

The  order  was  sent  forth.  The  fleet  was 
to  manoeuvre  for  the  weather-gauge.  It 
would  then  be  seen  whether  escape  or  contest 
was  the  next  move. 

"  Discretion  or  valor ! "  muttered  Jan.  "  As 
if  a  Dutchman  should  hesitate  between  the 
two  !  " 


150  IN   THE  BRAVE*  DAYS  OF  OLD 

A  gale  sprang  up  that  sent  the  unfortunate 
ships  reeling  beneath  close-reefed  topsails.  It 
was  some  comfort  to  see  that  the  Spanish  •war- 
galleys  could  not  ride  out  the  storm.  They 
were  forced  under  the  lee  of  the  land.  "  We 
have  lost  that  much  of  the  enemy's  strength," 
quoth  Giles. 

"  Ah,  but  the  galleons  !  After  all,  there  is 
nothing  like  them  for  mischief.  And  see  how 
they  weather  the  gale  !  " 

The  eighteen  powerful  vessels,  reinforced 
by  several  great  carracks,  were  bearing  down 
before  the  wind  upon  the  Netherlands  fleet. 
They  scattered  right  and  left.  The  confusion 
became  inextricable.  The  wind  howled,  and 
the  spray  beat  upon  the  decks.  Suddenly 
Giles  seized  Jan  by  the  arm. 

"  These  are  no  manoeuvres,"  he  called  above 
the  tumult  of  the  storm.  "  It  is  neither  more 
nor  less  than  flight.  And  each  ship  is  strug- 
gling to  be  the  foremost  in  it.  Oh,  what  a 
shameful  day  for  the  States  !  " 

With  a  gesture  of  overpowering  despair, 
Jan  flung  himself  upon  the  deck.  He  cov- 
ered his  face  with  his  hands  to  shut  out  the 
sight  of  his  country's  disgrace.  An  exclama- 
tion from  Giles  caused  him  to  lift  his  head 
again. 


KLAASZOON   THE  MARTYR  151 

"Is  it  not  so  bad?"  he  inquired. 

"  Oh,  that  glorious  Klaaszoon  !  See,  see,  he 
is  standing  fast !  Jan,  he  is  meeting  unaided 
the  onset  of  the  Spaniards." 

Yard-arm  to  yard-arm,  a  terrific  combat 
followed.  The  unequal  fight  was  too  much 
for  even  the  admiral's  caution  to  witness.  To 
the  joy  of  his  crew  he  checked  the  retreat, 
rallied  five  vessels  —  the  rest  were  hopelessly 
scattered  —  and  went  to  Klaaszoon's  relief. 

The  Spaniards  were  discomfited  for  the 
time.  The  day  was  dragging  to  a  close.  At 
sunset,  the  vice-admiral's  ship,  crippled  as  it 
was,  received  a  fresh  onslaught.  Those  with 

x  O 

Haultain  looked  to  him  to  move  once  more  to 
the  former's  assistance.  What  was  their  hor- 
ror when  the  command  was  given,  and  ran 
throughout  the  remnant  of  the  fleet ! 

"  Crowd  all  sail  !  "  the  admiral  had  said. 

"  And  Klaaszoon  ?  "  Giles  turned  his  white 
face  to  his  friend. 

Jan  was  pale,  too,  with  despair  and  rage. 
"  Klaaszoon  is  to  be  abandoned  to  his  fate, 
you  see  !  " 

The  Dutch  were  displaying  the  seamanship 
in  which  they  undoubtedly  excelled  the  adver- 
sary, only  to  get  as  rapidly  as  they  could  out 
of  the  Spaniards'  reach.  They  heard  the 


152  IN   THE  HEAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

guns  from  Klaaszoon's  ship  boom  out  over 
the  seas  as  they  disappeared  in  the  twilight. 
The  last  glimpse  any  of  them  caught  of  the 
doomed  vessel  was  one  never  to  be  forgotten. 
It  was  stamped  indelibly  upon  the  memory. 
Against  the  glare  of  the  setting  sun,  its  red 
clouds  suspended  over  the  victim,  the  devoted 
ship,  hemmed  in  by  its  foes,  forsaken  by  its 
friends,  wrecked  and  broken,  was  fighting  to 
the  end. 

Its  future  was  known  to  the  world  soon 
after  the  admiral,  who  eventually  fell  in  with 
the  missing  ships,  brought  back  twelve  of  the 
thirteen,  uninjured,  to  port.  He  had  no  very 
comforting  reception.  The  States  General 
made  it  clear,  and  the  public  agreed  with  the 
government,  that,  if  the  dozen  had  showed 
the  courage  of  the  one,  the  Spanish  squadron 
could  have  been  dispersed. 

Nor  was  Haultain's  lot  rendered  easier  by 
the  fact  that  he  had  only  missed  by  a  few 
days  the  American  fleet  that  now  sailed  safely 
to  land.  He  had  lost  his  honor,  he  had  lost 
his  vice-admiral,  and  he  had  lost  the  oppor- 
tunity to  capture  the  richest  prize  that  had 
ever  been  carried  to  impoverished  Spain. 
Eight  millions  of  dollars,  cargoes  of  Brazil 
wood,  silk,  cochineal,  indigo,  sarsaparilla,  and 


KLAASZOON  THE  MARTYR  153 

hides ;  there  was  wealth  galore  coming  out  of 
the  west,  and  directly  in  his  path  when  the 
Dutchman  sailed  away  from  Cape  St.  Vincent. 

Meanwhile  Holland  was  ringing  with  the 
tale  of  Klaaszoon  and  his  men.  They  had 
never  entertained  the  notion  of  surrender. 
They  knew  that  escape  was  out  of  the  ques- 
tion. For  forty-eight  hours  they  drifted 
about,  the  flag  of  the  States  still  flying  at  the 
broken  mast,  a  shot  now  and  then  speaking 
their  undying  defiance. 

The  ship  began  to  sink.  The  Spanish 
admiral,  Don  Luis  Fazardo,  made  a  demand 
for  surrender,  with  a  promise  of  quarter. 
There  were  sixty  men  alive  with  Klaaszoon, 
and  scarcely  one  unwounded.  He  went  about 
among  them  announcing  his  plan.  They 
must  all  agree  or  he  would  change  his  pur- 
pose. But  they  did  agree. 

They  knelt  upon  the  deck,  the  injured  sup- 
ported by  their  comrades.  Klaaszoon  offered 
up  a  prayer  to  the  God  who  had  led  the 
Dutch,  as  He  led  the  Hebrews  in  the  wilder- 
ness for  forty  years.  He  asked  Him  to  accept 
one  more  sacrifice  in  the  cause  of  liberty. 
The  others  said  a  hearty  and  unwavering 
amen. 

Then  the  vice-admiral  rose  and  approached 


154  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

the  powder  magazine.  He  tossed  within  it  a 
lighted  scrap  of  tarred  rope.  He  went  back 
to  the  group  and  fell  upon  his  knees  again. 

There  was  a  wild  flash  of  flame,  a  report 
that  shook  the  ocean  to  its  depths.  Klaas- 
zoon  and  his  men  had  chosen  to  give  them- 
selves into  the  hands  of  the  Lord  rather  than 
those  of  man. 

Two  survivors  were  picked  up  floating 
about  on  the  waves.  The  Spaniards  brought 
them  aboard  one  of  their  fleet,  and  questioned 
them  in  regard  to  what  had  happened.  They 
were  horribly  mutilated.  It  was  the  final 
struggle  of  nature  with  which  they  told,  and 
gloried  in  the  telling,  of  Regnier  Klaaszoon 
the  Martyr,  and  the  sixty  faithful  men  who 
had  gone  with  him  to  death. 

This  was  the  story  that  was  electrifying1 
the  States  and  crowning  the  ignominy  of 
Haultain. 


CHAPTER  XV 

i 

BEFORE  GROLL 

GILES  and  Jan  were  again  with  Prince 
Maurice  in  his  encampment  before  Lochem. 
They  were  welcomed  by  the  stadholder,  with 
some  trace  of  amusement  at  the  evidence  of 
their  spirit  and  determination  to  be  upon  the 
scene  of  action.  His  face  darkened  when  he 
questioned  them  about  the  happenings  off 
Cape  St.  Vincent.  It  lightened  again  with 
enthusiasm  at  Jan's  comment. 

"  Can  those  Spaniards  think,"  cried  the  boy, 
"  that  a  nation  capable  of  such  deeds  as  Klaas- 
zoon's  could  ever  give  up  the  struggle  for  its 
rights  ?  " 

"  From  their  own  side  the  struggle  is  almost 
over,"  was  the  prince's  comment.  "My lads, 
you  are  witnessing  the  end  of  a  contest  that 
began  before  your  fathers  were  born." 

It  was  hard  to  realize  this  fact,  while  the 
fighting  still  continued  on  both  sides  as  inde- 
fatigably  as  ever.  Lochem  was  taken  again 
by  Maurice's  forces  after  a  five  days'  siege. 


156  IN   THE  BRAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

It  was  a  dismal  experience  to  the  young  com- 
batants, little  as  the  fierce  old  soldiers  thought 
of  such  an  event.  About  them  lay  the  corpses 
of  Spanish  nobles,  to  be  recognized  by  their 
perfumed  gloves  and  their  rich  clothing. 
The  unburied  dead  were  a  horrible  sight. 
The  forsaken  streets,  the  departing  occupants 
of  the  town,  defiant  in  their  degradation, 
touched  the  boys'  generous  hearts,  and  made 
them  feel  that  first  hatred  of  warfare  that  was 
afterwards  to  grow  to  a  loathing  in  them 
both. 

Maurice  now  besieged  Groll  with  15,000 
infantry  and  3000  horse.  The  strangely 
prevalent  rains  were  still  pouring  down, 
although  —  and  this  appeared  a  mere  freak 
of  bad  fortune  —  at  the  very  time  that  he 
wished  to  cross  the  Yssel,  a  short  space  of 
dry  weather  intervened,  so  that  certain  of  its 
shallows  were  not  navigable  for  his  transports. 
The  long  trains  of  munitions  and  artillery 
were  dragged  overland  to  Groll,  whereupon 
the  flood-gates  were  opened  once  more. 

It  seemed  impossible  to  effect  anything  in 
such  weather.  Nor  was  there,  apparently, 
necessity  for  prompt  action.  The  Spanish 
forces  were  dispersed,  and  on  the  verge 
of  mutiny.  The  Dutch  felt,  in  a  measure, 


BEFORE  GROLL  157 

secure.  The  siege  was  conducted  after  a  lei- 
surely fashion. 

One  November  day  Giles  ran  into  their 
tent  in  a  state  of  intense  excitement. 

"  Spinola  is  advancing  on  Groll !  "  he  cried. 

"  Impossible !  " 

"  I  wish  it  were.  It  only  proves  too  true. 
The  news  has  just  arrived.  It  is  buzzing 
about  through  the  camp." 

"  And  it  is  no  idle  rumor  ?  There  are  so 
many  rumors  in  the  air." 

"  It  is  the  truth." 

Jan  was  off  his  couch  and  into  his  cloak 
in  an  instant.  Giles  regarded  him  in  no  little 
anxiety  as  they  proceeded  out  into  the  storm. 
He  knew  his  friend  did  not  like  to  be  ques- 
tioned about  his  health.  Jan  acted  as  if  this 
disease  (of  course  nowadays  it  would  be  called 
malaria)  was  something  girlish  and  of  which 
to  be  ashamed. 

"  I  fancy  you  would  be  as  well,"  Giles 
commented,  with  a  glance  at  the  flushed 
cheeks  and  unnaturally  sparkling  eyes,  "  for 
another  dose  of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh's  magical 
remedy."  The  only  answer  vouchsafed  him 
was  a  sort  of  growl  of  disgust. 

They  soon  learned  not  only  the  truth,  but 
further  particulars  of  the  tale  that  Giles  had 


158  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

picked  up.  Spinola's  army,  made  up  of  about 
seven  thousand  infantry  and  twelve  compa- 
nies of  horse,  was  marching  towards  Groll. 
A  morass  lay  in  his  path.  Soldiers  in  noisy 
groups  were  vehemently  proclaiming  this 
statement,  and  that  there  would  be  time,  be- 
fore its  passage  was  made,  for  the  prince  to 
complete  his  intrenchments.  Work  was  be- 
gun at  once,  in  spite  of  the  deluge  pouring 
down  upon  the  camp. 

Before  anything  had  been  effected,  tidings 
came  as  startling  and  as  true  as  the  first 
piece  of  intelligence.  Again  Giles  hastened 
to  his  friend's  bedside.  Again  he  roused  him 
with  — 

"  The  Spaniards  have  crossed  the  swamp  !  " 

Jan  sat  up  among  his  wraps,  for  the  poor 
fellow  was  in  the  agony  of  a  chill.  He  glared 
at  his  comrade  with  an  expression  as  much 
of  anger  as  of  disbelief. 

"  What  silly  tale  have  you  brought  me 
now?" 

Giles  answered,  "  It  is  worse  than  silly ;  it 
is  true." 

"  I  tell  you  this  is  absurd.  The  swamp  is 
impassable." 

"  Yet  Spinola  has  passed  it." 

"  How  can  you  be  so  positive  ?     It  could 


BEFORE  GBOLL  159 

not  be  done  with  such  speed.  Why,  Giles," 
the  invalid's  querulous  voice  assumed  a  more 
persuasive  tone,  —  "you  know  how  little  you 
understand  these  Dutchmen,  —  just  a  word 
here  and  there,  —  and  how  easily  you  might 
be  mistaken  in  what  you  overheard.  I  know 
you  have  improved  wonderfully  in  the  lan- 
guage "  — 

"  Oh,  don't  bother  to  flatter  me,"  Giles 
interrupted  with  a  laugh.  "  I  own  that  I  am 
at  disadvantage  with  your  countrymen  ;  only 
unfortunately,  it  was  one  of  the  English  sol- 
diers who  told  me  this." 

"  Then  it  is  true  ?  " 

"  Of  course.  But,  after  all,  why  should 
we  not  rejoice?  I  can't  understand  the  way 
you  take  this  news,  Jan.  And  the  men  feel 
as  I  do ;  we  have  a  larger  force ;  we  are  on 
our  own  ground,  which  is  partly  intrenched. 
It  is  the  golden  opportunity  to  gain  the  de- 
cisive victory  of  the  year  over  Spinola." 

As  usual,  Jan  was  more  cautious  than  his 
friend,  although  Giles  was  inclined  to  regard 
his  present  humor  as  the  gloom  of  illness. 

"  We  have  the  advantage  in  men,"  he  an- 
swered. "But  they  say  the  prince  has  lost 
confidence  in  his  cavalry  since  they  deserted 
his  brother  at  Mulheim.  Then  it  is  a  fact 


1GO  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

that  perhaps  half  of  the  infantry  are  disabled. 
This  rain  has  bred  one  sort  of  illness  and 
another,  like  flies." 

Giles  would  not  entertain  for  a  second  the 
notion  of  anything  except  glorious  success 
for  Maurice,  and  utter  defeat  for  the  Span- 
iards. 

"  We  shall  see,"  he  said,  tossing  his  head 
significantly. 

"  Yes,"  Jan  added,  in  a  very  different  tone, 
"  I  am  afraid  that  we  shall  see." 

At  all  events,  Spinola  was  aware  of  the 
weakest  spot  in  the  rebel  lines,  and  was  pro- 
ceeding straight  towards  that  particular  place. 
The  prince  drew  together  the  wings  of  his 
forces,  concentrating  them  upon  the  little 
town  of  Lebel.  Now  came  a  time  of  passion- 
ate suspense.  The  camp  was  full  of  desire 
for  the  battle  which  the  soldiers  thought  was 
close  at  hand ;  another  battle  —  and  they  all 
believed  it  would  be  the  last  —  in  the  defense 
of  the  States.  Sick  men  hobbled  from  their 
beds  and  declared  themselves  restored  to 
health,  although  their  looks  belied  their 
words.  Gloomy  spirits,  that  had  sunken  be- 
neath the  long-continued  dark  days  and 
splashing  rain,  were  high  at  the  prospect  of 
an  easy  conquest. 


BEFORE  GEOLL  161 

"  The  Spaniards  are  in  our  hands,"  Giles 
said  jubilantly.  "  They  are  worn  out  by  their 
forced  marches  through  those  fearful  bogs, 
suffering  from  the  same  weather  that  was  so 
hard  upon  us  lying  here  at  our  ease.  There 
could  not  be  a  more  perfect  chance  for  their 
destruction." 

Jan  said  nothing. 

The  young  Dutchman  was  not  only  thought- 
ful and  observant,  but  he  was  a  sort  of  pet  of 
the  prince's,  who  was  especially  pleased  with 
the  pluck  that  defied  hardships,  and  even  this 
persistent  ill  health,  in  a  love  of  country.  Such 
spirit  was  sure  to  commend  itself  to  the  stad- 
holder,  who  often  called  the  invalid  into  his 
quarters.  They  were  far  from  comfortable, 
but,  at  least,  better  than  those  of  the  troops. 
Here  Jan  was  enjoined  to  take  such  ease  as 
was  possible  to  the  misery  he  constantly  en- 
dured. Sir  Walter's  cinchona  could  not  effect 
a  cure  while  the  cause  of  the  malady  contin- 
ued. Jan's  illness  was  sometimes  tended  by 
the  hands  of  the  prince  himself.  He  gath- 
ered here  and  there,  and  put  together,  by 
combining  observation  and  reflection,  theo- 
ries as  to  the  relation  of  the  States  General 
with  their  commander-in-chief . 

He  saw  that  the  responsibility  of  the  cam- 


162  IN   THE  BRAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

paign  had  been  thrown  upon  Maurice  in  a 
peculiarly  ostentatious  manner.  He  guessed 
that  the  prince  was  less  free  to  act  than  was 
generally  supposed,  and  that,  although  Olden- 
Barneveld  and  some  of  his  colleagues,  who 
had  visited  the  camp  about  a  month  before, 
had  been  inclined  towards  action,  there  was  a 
restraint  that  was  not  comprehended  by  the 
world  at  large. 

And  the  eyes  of  all  Christendom  were 
upon  this  little  camp  of  Lebel.  England  and 
France,  James  and  Henry,  were  watching 
anxiously  for  the  next  move  to  be  made.  It 
would  be  hard  to  find  a  parallel  in  history  for 
that  scene.  All  the  partakers  appreciated  to 
the  full  the  part  they  were  playing. 

"  It  is  the  culmination  of  this  generation  of 
battles,"  said  Giles  in  one  of  their  countless 
talks.  "  Philip  is  gone,  and  Alva,  and  Wil- 
liam the  Silent ;  think  of  all  who  have  dis- 
appeared in  the  forty  years  of  the  Netherlands 
struggle !  Everything  points  to  the  end. 
Prince  Maurice  has  the  last  stroke  given  over 
to  his  sword  here  in  the  swamps  of  Zutphen. 
And  the  nations  are  afire  to  see  him  draw  the 
blade  from  its  scabbard." 

It  was  a  terrific  shock  to  the  boy  that  Jan 
raised  to  his  a  face  that  was  white  and  set. 


BEFORE  GROLL  163 

"  I  know  every  syllable  you  utter ! "  he 
cried ;  "  and  I  feel  its  truth  better  far  than 
would  be  possible  to  you.  For  this  is  my 
fatherland,  not  yours.  Its  fate  and  its  good 
name  must  be  dearer  to  me  than  ever  they 
could  be  to  an  Englishman.  Yet  I  am  bra- 
cing myself  to  bear  a  stupendous  blow." 

"  What  sort  of  blow  ? "  stammered  Giles, 
completely  taken  aback. 

"  I  cannot  say  certainly.  I  know  this : 
whatever  is  done  will  be,  not  our  commander's 
fault,  but  that  of  the  States  General.  He  is 
in  daily  correspondence  with  them.  Every  step 
he  takes,  or  fails  to  take,  is  by  their  advice. 
We  ourselves,  little  as  we  understand  the 
workings  of  his  mind,  can  see  that  many  of 
their  plans  have  been  carried  out  by  him  sorely 
against  his  better  judgment."  • 

"  But  —  Jan  —  you  cannot  mean — nobody 
could  mean  "  —  Giles  was  becoming  unin- 
telligible in  his  dismay.  "It  can't  be  that 
the  government  could  counsel  him  to  refuse 
battle  now  ?  " 

"  That  remains  to  be  seen,"  answered  Jan 
coldly.  But  there  were  actually  tears  in  his 
eyes. 

"  And  the  prince  would  bear  all  the  censure 
of  the  lookers-on  ?  " 


1G4  IN   TIIE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

"  Yes,  that  is  so.  He  will  —  he  would  bear 
the  blame." 

There  was  a  tumult  in  the  camp,  —  the 
noise  of  shouting.  The  boys  looked  at  each 
other. 

"  That  was  from  our  soldiers,"  said  Giles. 
"  And  it  was  not  joy." 

"  No,"  Jan  answered  between  his  teeth ; 
"  it  was  rage." 

They  met  a  man  as  they  ran  out  of  the 
tent.  He  was  hurrying  past  them,  head  down 
and  face  distorted. 

"  What  is  the  news  ?  "  Jan  inquired  briefly. 

He  hurled  his  answer  at  them  over  his 
shoulder  as  he  hastened  on.  There  was  an 
expression  of  fury  upon  his  features. 

"  The  siege  is  raised.  The  field  is  aban- 
doned. Retreat  is  the  order  of  the  day." 

He  told  the  plain  truth.  Maurice  broke 
camp,  and  led  his  forces  to  the  village  of 
Zelem.  The  same  day  the  Marquis  Spinola 
retired  into  Munster,  having  relieved  the  city. 
It  was  the  close  of  the  campaign.  The  last 
land  battle  had  been  fought  in  the  forty 
years'  war.  To  the  rage  of  the  prince's  men, 
the  execrations  of  his  allies,  it  had  not  been 
the  battle  of  Groll. 


CHAPTER  XVI 
THE  RECORDER'S  GUEST 

"  IT  is  truly  an  ill  wind  that  blows  no  one 
any  good,"  said  Giles.  "  Even  at  the  price 
of  such  disappointment,  I  am  thankful  that 
we  are  out  of  those  sickly  marshes,  and  have 
brought  you  safely  to  the  Hague." 

"  And  here,"  Jan  answered,  "  I  am  recov- 
ering my  health  by  the  minute."  He  could 
bear  to  speak  of  his  illness  when  it  was  in 
the  past.  He  was  marvelously  improved 
already.  They  had  carried  M.  Chapelain's 
letter,  reinforced  by  one  from  Maurice,  to 
Recorder  Aerssens,  who  took  them  into  his 
family  at  once.  He  encouraged  them  to  be- 
lieve that,  if  they  wished  for  another  voyage, 
they  might  yet  see  ocean  warfare,  and  wipe 
out  the  disgrace  of  last  September,  when  the 
spring  should  come. 

They  were  waiting  for  this  in  the  Hague, 
and  learning  something,  in  the  agreeable  life 
they  led  there,  of  the  Dutch  manners  and 
customs  that  were  almost  as  strange  to  Jan  — 


166  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

he  had  been  so  young  when  he  was  carried 
off  to  England  —  as  to  his  companion.  They 
were  sturdy  fellows,  bearing  privations  with- 
out complaint.  Still,  it  was  pleasant  to  see 
prosperity  about  them  again,  and  to  indulge  in 
luxuries  unknown  to  them  under  King  James's 
rule.  Life  at  home  had  been  one  of  magnifi- 
cent dress,  of  lavish  splendor.  But  Elizabeth 
was  always  cramped  in  resource,  as  well  as 
penurious  in  expenditure.  Her  successor  en- 
tered upon  like  conditions ;  he  loved  money, 
and  he  had  not  enough  of  it  to  spend.  The 
people  of  Holland  lived  in  comfort,  for  they 
used  their  incomes  on  such  things  as  pleased 
them,  and  cared  nothing  for  merely  outshin- 
ing their  neighbors.  They  dressed  richly; 
they  ate  heartily;  and  their  homes  were  pro- 
vided with  innumerable  niceties  all  new  to 
the  recorder's  visitors.  Spices  for  their  food 
were  one  little  item  appreciated  in  days  when 
there  was  no  variety,  and  more  coarse  profu- 
sion than  delicate  cookery. 

They  were  eating  with  boyish  appetites, 
one  day  in  February,  when  a  guest  appeared  at 
Aerssens's  dinner  table.  "  Draw  up,  cousin," 
said  the  recorder  heartily,  after  the  first  greet- 
ings were  over.  "  The  meal  has  but  just  been 
placed  upon  the  board." 


THE  RECORDER'S  GUEST  167 

The  new-comer  was  Werner  Cruwel,  a 
tradesman  from  Brussels,  who  had  recently 
failed  in  business.  Aerssens  supposed  that 
his  doleful  manner  was  the  result  of  this  mis- 
fortune. When  his  relative  refused  the  in- 
vitation to  join  them,  he  was  impatient  with 
such  excessive  grief  over  what  was  past  and 
done  with. 

"  Cheer  up,  man,"  he  urged.  "  It  will  do 
your  affairs  no  good,  but  rather  hurt,  to  fast 
because  of  them." 

Cruwel  paid  no  attention  to  this.  "  You 
have  little  idea,"  said  he  coldly,  "  of  what  is 
on  my  mind."  He  took  a  letter  from  his 
pocket-book,  and  handed  it  across  the  board 
to  Aerssens. 

The  recorder's  eyes  grew  big  as  he  read. 
There  was  absolute  silence  in  the  room. 

"  What  I  have  to  tell  you,"  said  his  cousin, 
when  the  letter  was  finished,  "  will  wait  till 
later." 

He  glanced  significantly  at  the  family. 
Aerssens  nodded  his  head.  When  the  cloth 
had  been  removed,  and  the  recorder's  wife 
and  children  rose,  Giles  and  Jan  sprang  up 
to  accompany  them.  Aerssens  checked  them 
by  a  look. 

"  You  may  stay,  if  you  choose,"    he  told 


168  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

them.  "  The  introductions  you  brought  were 
vouchers  for  you  both.  Perhaps  you  will  be 
glad  some  day  to  have  heard  my  cousin's 
message.  I  think  it  will  make  history." 

They  sank  back  in  their  seats.  The  re- 
corder addressed  Cruwel.  "This  letter,"  tap- 
ping it  with  his  forefinger,  "purports  to  come 
from  President  Bichardot." 

"  Yes." 

"I  can  hardly  believe  what  it  appears  to 
state." 

"You  can  altogether  believe  it,"  Cruwel 
answered,  "  if  it  tells  you  that  I  am  sent  on 
a  secret  mission  from  the  President  and 
Father  Neyen." 

"  That  mission  being  "  — 

"  A  treaty  for  a  truce.  I  have  here  a  mem- 
orandum," —  he  produced  it  from  his  carefully 
guarded  pocket-book  —  "  signed  by  the  Mar- 
quis Spinola  and  by  Father  Neyen.  They 
agree  to  a  ten  or  twelve  year's  armistice,  upon 
one  condition  only,  —  that  the  States  abstain 
from  Indian  navigation." 

Giles  stole  a  look  under  his  eyelashes  at 
Jan.  They  had  of  late  been  hearing  fairy- 
like  tales  of  America.  Their  traveling  com- 
panion, Captain  Smith,  had  sent  what  was 
supposed  to  be  gold-dust  to  England.  Wild 


THE  RECORDER'S  GUEST  169 

stories  were  afloat  of  his  adventures  with 
Powhatan,  "  the  emperor  of  Virginia."  The 
Netherlands  were  as  greedy  as  the  English 
for  a  share  of  these  possible  treasures.  A 
West  India  Company  was  established  where 
an  East  India  Company  was  already  in  exist- 
tence.  The  boys  were  beginning  to  look  for- 
ward once  more  to  a  journey  to  those  new 
countries,  —  the  land  of  the  cannibal  and  of 
the  inexhaustible  mines,  —  if  Captain  Smith's 
friend  Hudson  were  to  sail  again. 

The  recorder  rose  to  his  feet. 

"  I  think  it  best,"  he  said,  "  to  confer  with 
the  advocate.  With  your  permission,  cousin, 
we  will  postpone  this  interview  until  I  have 
laid  the  matter  before  him." 

"  It  is  as  you  please,"  said  Cruwel. 

"  Would  you  care  to  accompany  me  ? " 
Aerssens  asked  the  boys.  They  assented 
eagerly. 

Barneveld  they  found  in  bed  and  asleep. 
He  was  at  once  awakened  to  hear  this  impor- 
tant intelligence.  It  was  rather  amusing  to 
notice  the  cool  way  in  which  Aerssens  spoke 
of  his  relative.  He  said  that  he  thought 
business  reverses  had  changed  the  man,  and, 
"  in  spite  of  his  sly  and  lumpish  manner,  he 
is  false  and  cunning." 


170  IN  THE  BRAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

His  advice  was  for  the  advocate  to  ques- 
tion Cruwel  before  witnesses.  Barneveld  lis- 
tened in  silence. 

"  The  prince  must  hear  what  he  has  to 
say,"  he  declared  at  length.  "  And  you 
shall  be  present.  Of  course  you  answer  for 
these  youths  ?  " 

He  shot  a  quick  look  from  Giles  to  Jan. 

"  Prince  Maurice  answers  for  them,"  said 
the  recorder. 

"  Then  you,"  —  he  addressed  Jan,  —  "  can 
be  our  messenger.  Go  to  the  stadholder,  and 
tell  him  what  you  have  heard.  Ask  him  if 
he  will  question  Cruwel  in  our  presence." 

Jan  was  elated  by  this  responsibility.  He 
faithfully  discharged  the  trust.  For  reward, 
perhaps,  he  was  allowed  to  be  present  two 
days  later  when  Cruwel  delivered  to  the 
prince,  the  advocate,  and  the  recorder  the 
memorandum  signed  by  Spinola  and  Father 
Neyen,  with  another  signed  by  the  latter 
alone.  In  this  the  friar  offered  to  make  a 
secret  visit  to  the  Hague,  unknown  to  any  one 
in  the  States  except  those  who  now  learned 
his  design. 

Maurice  treated  this  last  document  with 
contempt. 

"  Tell  Neyen,"  he  announced,  "  that  if  he 


THE  RECORDER'S  GUEST  171 

would  address  me  on  matters  of  such  im- 
portance, he  must  send  me  in  writing  a  pro- 
posal that  merits  serious  attention.  This  " 
—  he  flipped  the  paper  scornfully,  —  "  is  ap- 
parently nothing  save  a  trick." 

This  was  the  conclusion  of  all  three  men 
regarding  the  affair,  even  when  Cruwel  re- 
appeared at  the  end  of  a  week  with  a  formal 
avowal  from  Neyen.  He  declared  himself 
authorized  to  treat  with  the  States  by  the 
archdukes,  who  promised  to  surrender  all 
right  to  the  "so-called  United  Provinces," 
but  demanded  to  know  what  would  be  given 
in  return.  The  prince  and  the  advocate  said 
to  each  other  and  to  Aerssens  that  the  arch- 
dukes might  intend  to  recognize  their  free- 
dom, and  yet  secretly  do  all  they  could  to 
corrupt  their  government.  War  could  be 
renewed  after  dissensions  had  been  sown, 
and  they  would  be  worse  off  than  before. 

It  was,  however,  thought  best  to  treat  with 
the  friar.  Neyen  and  Cruwel  arrived  at  a 
village  one  and  a  half  miles  from  the  Hague. 
They  were  disguised  as  traveling  tradesmen. 

Since  Jan  had  seen  the  recorder's  cousin, 
he  was  appointed  to  accompany  the  carriage 
sent  to  meet  these  men. 

"You  Dutchmen  hang   together,"  sighed 


172  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

Giles.  "  I  wish  I  had  your  chance.  Or  —  no, 
not  that !  but  that  there  were  two  chances, 
one  for  each." 

Although  it  was  almost  morning  before 
Jan  returned,  he  was  awake  to  greet  him. 
The  messenger  fell  into  the  nearest  seat, 
and  stretched  his  arms  in  a  prodigious  yawn. 

"  Ugh,  how  tired  I  am ! "  he  exclaimed. 
(( I  feel  as  if  I  could  sleep  for  a  week." 

"Well?"  Giles  hinted. 

"  Well,  I  know  you  are  curious  to  hear 
every  word.  Let  me  see,  where  shall  I  be- 
gin? I  sat  inside  the  carriage  in  state. 
There  were  two  mounted  musketeers  on 
either  side.  I  felt  like  a  royal  personage. 
When  we  arrived  at  Ryswick  I  gave  direc- 
tions to  stop  a  few  yards  away  from  the  inn. 
I  proceeded  there  on  foot,  and  soon  found 
my  men.  They  were  dressed  as  burghers. 
The  friar  played  his  part  well.  Of  course 
Cruwel  was  just  himself.  I  spoke  to  him, 
and  he  recalled  me  without  my  credentials 
from  the  recorder.  He  remained  at  the  inn. 
When  we  entered  the  carriage,  Neyen  was 
alarmed  at  the  sight  of  the  armed  men.  I 
told  him  they  were  an  escort,  and  that  quieted 
him.  We  drove  to  the  palace.  I  took  him 
by  the  hand,  and  conducted  him  along  the 


THE  BECOEDEWS  GUEST  173 

corridors  without  a  word.  My  instructions 
were  to  add  to  the  impressiveness  of  those 
deserted  halls,  and  I  did  so.  He  looked  quite 
frightened.  We  reached  an  inner  apartment. 
I  knocked  at  the  door.  The  prince  received 
us  standing  by  a  table  littered  with  papers 
and  books.  With  him  was  the  advocate. 

"  They  both  welcomed  him  cordially. 
Prince  Maurice  asked  him  how  he  dared  to 
enter  the  Hague  relying  upon  the  word  of  a 
beggar." 

Both  boys  smiled.  They  knew,  as  the 
friar  had  done,  that  Maurice  alluded  to  the 
once  scornful  epithet  afterwards  adopted  by 
a  political  party,  which  had  become  a  stock 
name  for  the  Dutch  rebels. 

"  He  answered,"  continued  Jan,  "  that  he 
knew  no  one  who  would  shrink  from  confi- 
dence in  so  exalted  and  respectable  a  beggar. 
They  all  laughed  a  little.  Then  he  produced 
letters  from  the  archdukes.  He  said  —  this 
did  sound  absurd,  although  he  acted  as  if  he 
believed  in  it  himself  —  that  the  royal  souls 
of  the  writers  shone  forth  in  those  papers. 
They  had  not  a  thought  for  their  own  advan- 
tage :  they  were  moved  solely  by  the  remem- 
brance of  the  tears  of  thousands  of  human 
beings  reduced  to  misery.  They  cared  no- 


174  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

thing  at  all  for  what  would  be  said  by  the 
kings  of  Europe  as  to  their  excessive  indul- 
gence. This  was  too  much  for  the  stad- 
holder's  patience.  l  What  indulgence  ? '  said 
he  sharply. 

"  The  monk  answered  :  *  Is  it  not  a  great 
indulgence  to  give  up  their  inherited  right  to 
these  provinces  ?  To  declare  those  people  to 
be  free  against  whose  rebellion  they  have 
waged  war  that  bade  fair  to  be  endless  ? ' 

"  Prince  Maurice  took  him  up  quickly  upon 
that.  He  said  :  — 

"  '  Our  right  hands  gained  this  freedom. 
The  archdukes  have  not  granted  it.  We 
have  bought  it  at  the  price  of  treasure  freely 
spent,  and  by  the  blood  of  countless  heroes/ 
I  thought,  Giles,  of  your  father's  life  and  of 
mine.  They  went  to  purchase  Holland's  lib- 
erty. The  stadholder  went  on  :  '  All  Chris- 
tian kings,  save  him  of  Spain  and  his  relatives, 
have  acknowledged  our  independence.  We 
ask  no  gift  from  the  archdukes.  We  claim 
the  recognition  of  our  freedom.  If  they  are 
unwilling  to  give  it,  we  can  still  fight.  They 
shall  find,  in  the  future  as  in  the  past,  that 
we  love  liberty  more  than  life.' 

"  Well,  then  they  dismissed  Neyen.  I  was 
called  from  my  corner,  and  carried  him  off  to 


THE  RECORDER'S  GUEST  175 

the  captain  of  the  citadel,  where  he  was  given 
a  bed  in  all  comfort.  What  I  want  most 
now  is  mine." 

The  treaty  was  next  discussed  before  the 
States  General.  As  had  been  foreseen,  pub- 
lic comment  and  advice  complicated  matters. 
Neyen  went  back  and  forth  between  Brussels 
and  the  Hague.  At  the  former  place,  when 
the  armistice  was  announced,  it  was  received 
with  anger  by  the  nobles,  and  rapture  from 
the  common  people. 

This  was  in  the  middle  of  April.  But 
Giles  and  Jan  by  that  time  were  far  away. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

IN    GIBRALTAR    BAY 

ONE  day  in  the  latter  part  of  March, 
Prince  Maurice  sent  for  Jan  and  his  friend. 
He  received  them  with  a  jest.  His  face  was 
bright  and  determined. 

"  Are  ye  still  bent  upon  going  to  sea  ?  "  he 
asked  them. 

"  Oh,  sir,  is  there  any  chance,"  Giles  cried, 
"  of  a  voyage  to  the  Indies  ?  " 

"  Not  yet.  At  least  that  is  not  what  I  had 
in  mind.  What  think  ye  of  an  expedition  to 
Spain?" 

They  gave  a  cry  of  pleasure  that  warmed 
the  warrior's  heart. 

"  That  is  the  true  ring  of  good  metal,"  he 
said.  "  Ye  are,  then,  wishful  to  wipe  out  the 
stain  of  Cape  St.  Vincent  ?  " 

"  To  follow  in  Klaaszoon's  footsteps,  if 
occasion  serve,"  Jan  answered  with  kindling 
eyes. 

"  There  spake  the  Dutch  blood  in  sooth. 
Yea,  and  you  will  have  for  commander  another 


IN  GIBRALTAR  BAY  111 

Regnier  Klaaszoon.  Heard  ye  ever  of  Jacob 
van  Heemskerk  ?  " 

"All  must  have  heard  of  him,"  Giles  re- 
plied. "  Of  his  terrible  sufferings  in  Nova 
Zembla,  of  his  many  voyages,  of  the  Portu- 
guese carrack,  bursting  -with  treasure,  that  he 
brought  back  to  the  Netherlands." 

"  Good  !  I  am  about  to  send  ye  down  the 
western  coast  with  Van  Heemskerk." 

When  the  boys  arrived  on  board  the  ^Eolus^ 
and  were  summoned  to  the  admiral's  presence, 
they  could  hardly  believe  that  the  fine-fea- 
tured, fair-haired  man,  with  the  gentle  man- 
ner and  quiet  dress,  who  was  laughing  softly 
over  the  prince's  letter,  was  the  valiant  sailor 
of  whom  they  had  heard  so  much. 

He  congratulated  them,  as  if  their  warlike 
ardor  was  rather  a  joke,  on  the  opportunity 
they  would  probably  soon  enjoy.  They 
learned  from  the  men  that  they  were  bound 
to  the  coast  of  Portugal,  to  meet  the  arma- 
ments that  were  preparing  in  port,  the  Amer- 
ican fleet  that  was  expected,  and  the  cruisers 
that  should  put  out  against  the  East  Indian 
merchantmen. 

There  were  twenty-six  of  the  Dutch  vessels, 
with  four  tenders.  Their  names  were  fierce 
enough,  —  the  Red  Lion,  the  Golden  Lion, 


178  7.V   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

the  Griffin,  the  Tiger,  the  Black  Bear,  the 
White  Bear,  the  Sea  Dog,  among  the  number. 
Two  of  the  other  commanders  in  the  fleet 
were  familiar  to  Dutch  history,  —  "  Long 
Harry "  of  Amsterdam,  and  the  admiral, 
called  by  his  men  "  Pretty  Lambert."  Both 
were  seamen  as  brave  as  lions. 

On  arriving  at  the  mouth  of  the  Tagus, 
Heemskerk  sent  a  lugger,  disguised  as  a 
trader,  up  that  river  to  spy  out  the  condition 
of  affairs.  The  boys  pleaded  to  *be  allowed 
to  accompany  the  expedition,  but  the  admiral 
refused.  ^ 

"  No,  no,"  he  insisted,  smiling  at  their  con- 
tempt of  danger.  "  The  prince  gave  you  into 
my  hands  to  see  fighting,  not,  perhaps,  to 
have  your  brave  young  heads  popped  off  by 
a  chance  musket-shot  on  a  scouting  inland 
expedition.  You  will  have  action  in  plenty 
later  on.  Bide  your  time." 

The  spies  brought  back  tidings  that  the 
Indian  fleet  would  not  sail  from  Portugal  for 
months  to  come ;  that  no  returning  argosies 
were  looked  for.  The  faces  that  had  length- 
ened at  this  intelligence,  brightened  at  the 
additional  news,  —  there  was  an  immense 
war  fleet  now  in  Gibraltar  Strait.  These  gal- 
leons were  set  to  intercept  the  Dutch  traders 


IN  GIBRALTAR  BAY  179 

which  should  enter  the  Mediterranean  Sea, 
or  sail  along  it,  homeward  bound,  from  the 
East. 

No  news  could  have  been  more  congenial 
to  the  admiral.  Here  was  an  adversary  worth 
attacking.  He  had  rather  scorned  the  idea 
of  capturing  merchantmen  who  could  not 
resist  to  any  advantage.  The  warships  were 
in  every  way  his  superiors.  All  the  greater 
the  glory  for  him  and  for  Holland  —  only 
that  he  put  Holland  first  —  if  they  did  win. 
He  never  doubted  that  they  should. 

The  squadron  reached  Gibraltar  Bay  on  the 
morning  of  the  28th  of  April.  The  Dutch 
rebels  had  been  victorious  in  the  Channel  and 
the  German  Ocean,  as  well  as  along  the 
Indies.  Now  they  had  come  to  the  very 
stronghold  of  the  king  whose  allegiance  they 
had  thrown  off,  who  claimed  universal  sover- 
eignty on  land  and  sea.  His  mighty  vessels 
lay  at  anchor  under  the  shadow  of  the  for- 
tress on  the  rock,  —  ten  immense  galleons, 
eleven  carracks,  and  smaller  war-vessels.  Their 
admiral  was  D'Avila,  whose  son  was  captain 
of  the  flag-ship  St.  Augustine. 

An  order  was  sent  out  for  all  the  captains 
to  assemble  upon  the  ^Eolus.  Van  Heems- 
kerk  addressed  them,  standing  in  front  of  the 


180  IN   TUE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

mainmast.  Giles  and  Jan  approached  as  close 
as  they  dared,  not  to  lose  one  word. 

"  We  are  between  two  continents,"  he  said. 
"  Europe  and  Africa  are  watching  what  we 
do.  It  would  be  hard  for  the  Netherlands 
not  to  win  upon  the  seas.  But  you  must 
understand  that  it  is  either  victory  or  death. 
We  cannot  escape  the  one  or  the  other.  The 
enemy's  vessels  are  greater  than  ours;  this 
makes  them  more  unwieldy,  and  the  better 
targets.  They  have  larger  crews ;  our  shot 
must  take  effect  upon  those  decks  that  are 
black  with  men.  We  are  good  sailors.  They 
are  landsmen,  upset  by  the  rolling  of  the 
water.  And  now  farewell.  Remember  that 
to-day  may  give  our  fatherland  the  power  of 
dictating  terms  to  the  haughty  Spaniards,  and 
lay  the  foundations  of  peace  with  honor." 

The  speaker  told  them  curtly  his  course  of 
action.  The  ^Eolus  was  to  grapple  with  the 
St.  Augustine  upon  one  side  and  the  Tiger 
upon  the  other.  Two  and  two,  the  Dutch 
ships  were  thus  to  attack  the  galleons,  the 
admiral  leading,  and  the  rest  following  him. 

The  solemn  oath  to  stand  by  one  another 
was  administered.  The  sentences  had  a 
peculiar  significance  to  Giles  and  Jan,  who 
hearkened  to  the  pledge  with  a  quickened 


IN  GIBRALTAR  BAY  181 

remembrance  of  that  cruel  flight  off  Cape  St. 
Vincent,  and  the  last  glimpse  of  Regnier 
Klaaszoon,  his  crippled  ship  lying  black 
against  the  sunset. 

The  captains  went  back  to  their  vessels. 
The  fleet  began  to  move  forward.  When 
D'Avila  saw  the  advancing  ships,  he  called  for 
a  Dutch  skipper  who  was  a  captive  on  board, 
and  inquired  if  those  sail  were  his  country- 
men's. 

He  said  quietly,  "  Yes." 

"What  can  they  be  after?"  asked  D'Avila. 
"Why  do  they  approach  us ? " 

"  I  think  it  is  highly  probable,"  said  Ge- 
vaerts,  "  that  they  are  coming  to  fight  with 
you." 

The  admiral  roared  with  laughter.  His 
captive  stood  in  silence,  waiting  any  further 
speech. 

"  Why,  the  St.  Augustine  alone,"  exclaimed 
D'Avila,  still  shaking  with  mirth,  "  shall  sink 
every  vessel  in  the  whole  Dutch  fleet." 

The  skipper  bowed,  in  the  same  odd  silence, 
and  went  away. 

There  was  certainly  no  lack  of  combatants 
for  Spain.  The  admiral  had  over  4000  sol- 
diers under  him,  besides  the  sailors.  At  the 
prospect  of  a  battle  with  the  hated  Nether- 


182  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

landers,  volunteers  by  the  hundred,  of  Philip's 
noblemen,  came  out  from  shore  to  take  a  part 
in  the  humiliation  of  the  rebels  who  had 
presumed  to  seek  them  in  their  very  homes. 

It  was  about  noon.  The  Dutch  were  close 
at  hand.  On  every  ship  prayer  had  been 
offered  up  :  they  asked  the  Lord  of  battle  to 
defend  the  right,  to  deliver  the  enemy  into 
their  hands,  or  to  grant  them  the  death  of 
honor. 

Heemskerk  led  the  way.  He  told  his  gun- 
ners not  to  fire  till  the  ^Eolus  struck  the  side 
of  the  St.  Augustine. 

"  Wait  till  you  hear  it  crack ! "  was  his 
order. 

He  added,  raising  his  voice  that  all  might 
hear  him  :  "  One  hundred  florins  to  the  man 
who  pulls  down  that  flag ! "  and  he  pointed 
to  the  pennant  fluttering  in  the  dying  breeze 
from  the  mast  of  the  St.  Augustine. 

D'Avila's  laugh  had  been  very  loud,  but 
perhaps  there  was  not  so  much  heartiness  in 
it  after  all.  He  assuredly  did  not  set  about 
his  self-appointed  task  of  sinking  the  entire 
opposing  fleet.  Instead  of  that,  he  gave 
hasty  orders  to  cut  the  cable  of  the  flag-ship, 
and  they  drifted  out  into  the  bay. 

Heemskerk's   men   looked   at   each  other, 


IN  GIBRALTAR  BAY  183 

wondering  what  he  would  do.  They  soon 
learned.  He  issued  a  command,  in  his  usual 
low-pitched  tones,  to  steer  past  the  two  or 
three  galleons  between  him  and  his  victim? 
and  went  crashing  against  the  side  of  the  St. 
Augustine.  The  guns  spoke  out  at  the  sig- 
nal. Pretty  Lambert  saw  what  was  expected 
of  him,  and  brought  the  Tiger  to  the  other 
side. 

The  flag-ship  fired  upon  Van  Heemskerk, 
but  without  doing  a  great  deal  of  damage. 
She  fired  again.  Giles  was  standing  near  the 
admiral  when  a  cannon-ball  whistled  over 
him,  so  close  that  it  made  him  fall  back  be- 
fore its  force.  The  next  moment  he  wished 
that  he  had  been  struck,  for  it  carried  away 
the  head  of  a  sailor  also  in  its  path,  and  cut 
off  Van  Heemskerk's  leg  at  the  thigh. 

A  group  gathered  about  their  leader  as 
he  fell  upon  the  deck.  A  gush  of  blood 
flooded  the  boards.  His  orange  scarf  was 
dyed  an  ominous  scarlet.  Captain  Verhoef 
bent  over  the  stricken  man. 

"  Fight  to  the  last,"  whispered  Van  Heems- 
kerk. His  face  was  growing  ghastly  white. 
Jan  knelt  beside  him,  supporting  his  head 
upon  one  knee. 

"  I  will,"  the  captain  promised. 


184  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

"  And  don't  let  the  rest  know  that  I  am 
gone." 

"  No." 

"You  will  win,  Verhoef,  without  me,"  he 
said.  "  May  God  receive  my  soul !  " 

Jan  made  a  motion  to  the  captain.  He 
sadly  inclined  his  head.  The  dead  body  was 
laid  upon  the  deck.  Giles  spread  his  cloak 
reverently  over  the  still  features,  and  crossed 
the  hands  above  the  orange  scarf.  The  guns 
were  firing,  and  the  battle  waged  fiercely. 
None  except  those  upon  the  JEolus  knew  that 
their  admiral  had  been  killed.  The  men  on 
the  flag-ship  were  mad  to  avenge  his  death. 

A  broadside  from  her  did  awful  injury  to 
the  St.  Augustine.  When  the  smoke  par- 
tially dispersed,  they  could  see  D'Avila's  body 
carried  below.  He  had  not  sunk  the  Nether- 
lands fleet,  and  he  had  been  slain. 

Hemming  her  in,  the  ^Eolus  and  the  Tiger 
were  fighting  their  adversary.  The  Dutch 
vice-admiral  had  been  prevented  from  carry- 
ing out  the  directions  Van  Heemskerk  had 
given  him.  While  preparing  to  lay  his  ves- 
sel alongside  the  Spanish  vice-admiral's,  he 
had  been  set  upon  by  two  galleons.  Three 
of  his  comrades'  ships  attacked  the  enemy, 
whom  he  was  obliged  to  ignore,  as  he  fought 


ZZV  GIBRALTAR  SAY  185 

on  the  defense.  Our  Lady  of  La  Vega,  after 
a  sharp  combat,  was  set  on  fire.  The  Dutch 
sails  were  burning,  too,  from  their  close  neigh- 
borhood, and  the  three  vessels  drew  off  for  a 
time,  busied  with  extinguishing  the  flames. 
Meanwhile  the  blazing  ship  drifted  about  at 
random.  From  time  to  time  a  gun  would 
boom  out  over  the  fiery  deck.  The  men 
threw  themselves  into  the  sea.  The  ship 
burned  on  and  on,  till  there  was  nothing  save 
a  blackened  and  smoking  hulk  floating  on 
the  waters  of  the  bay. 

The  vice-admiral  had  a  hard  struggle  with 
his  two  adversaries.  One  he  finally  managed 
to  sink.  The  other  he  drove  upon  shore, 
wrecked  and  silenced. 

Admiral  Janszoon  had  set  another  ship  on 
fire.  This,  also,  was  burning  to  the  ocean's 
edge.  Word  finally  crept  to  the  ^Eolus  that 
Long  Harry  had  been  killed.  It  was  not  a 
day  of  unmixed  triumph  for  the  Netherlanders. 

The  light  from  the  burning  ships  went  out. 
There  was  the  darkness  of  night  upon  the 
water.  And  yet  it  was  mid-afternoon  of  a 
bright  April  day.  The  clouds  that  obscured 
the  sight  were  the  smoke  of  battle.  They 
put  out  the  light  of  the  sun. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

WHEN    THE    SMOKE    CLEARED 

JAN  crossed  to  his  friend  over  the  deck 
strewn  with  the  hideous  litter  of  warfare. 
He  placed  his  mouth  close  to  Giles's  ear, 
shrieking  above  the  noise  :  — 

"  Captain  Verhoef  is  trying  to  bring  the 
most  distant  vessels  into  the  action,  —  those 
that  the  admiral  stationed  this  morning  on 
the  edge  of  the  bay  to  guard  against  the 
enemy's  escape." 

"  This  morning !  "  Giles  repeated.  "  It 
seems  an  eternity  since  then.  Here  they  come ! 
Can  you  see  ?  " 

The  approaching  sails  were  dimly  visible 
through  the  dusk.  As  they  peered  out  over 
the  side,  watching  the  advance,  something 
happened,  —  they  knew  not  what.  There 
was  a  report,  beside  which  all  the  former 
tumult  was  as  silence.  They  were  pitched 
with  tremendous  force  against  each  other,  and 
fell  headlong  upon  the  deck.  At  that  mo- 
ment they  thought  the  end  of  the  world  had 


WHEN  THE  SMOKE  CLEARED      187 

come.  The  foundations  of  the  globe  were 
shaken.  They  were  tossed  like  a  ball  in  the 
grasp  of  a  giant.  Nor  was  this  the  extent  of 
the  horror.  The  explosion  had  been  caused 
by  a  hot  shot  from  a  Dutch  ship  falling  into 
the  powder  magazine  of  one  of  the  largest 
galleons.  Every  man  on  board  was  blown 
into  eternity.  Burning  bits  of  the  wreck 
floated  about  among  the  other  vessels.  Two 
were  set  on  fire.  Their  guns  went  off  with 
fearful  sound.  Then  they,  too,  exploded. 
Once  more  Giles  and  Jan  were  flung  about 
like  cockleshells  upon  an  angry  sea.  Gibral- 
tar itself  quivered.  The  whole  bay  was 
lighted  by  a  fire  as  terrible  as  the  darkness 
that  it  succeeded.  No  more  hideous  picture 
was  ever  witnessed  in  this  world  of  awful 
deeds. 

By  the  glare  it  was  first  ascertained  what 
was  the  real  condition  of  the  opposing  forces. 
Now  one  saw  that  every  galleon  was  burned 
or  sunk  except  the  St.  Augustine.  She  ran 
up  a  white  flag  that  flew  out  almost  piteously 
against  the  blazing  sky  where  the  sun  was 
setting.  Giles  pointed  out  the  symbol  of 
defeat  to  his  friend.  Jan  looked  up,  and 
then  made  a  dash  forward. 

"  No  one  sees  it,"  he  cried.     "  They  are  all 


188  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

like  wolves.  Watch  those  faces,  Giles.  How 
shall  we  stop  them  ?  " 

He  could  not  get  sight  of  any  one  in  com- 
mand to  point  out  what  had  been  manifestly 
overlooked  in  the  heat  of  the  victory  that  was 
assured.  Despite  the  Spanish  plea  for  quar- 
ter, the  crews  of  the  Tiger  and  the  ^Eolus 
were  swarming  on  board  the  flag-ship.  The 
expression  of  the  attackers  was  what  Jan  had 
described  it,  as  that  of  animals,  and  not  of 
men. 

The  boys  could  not  join  at  night  with 
their  comrades  in  the  rejoicing  at  the  com- 
pleteness of  their  enemy's  overthrow.  For 
the  last  act  of  that  day's  tragedy  was  nothing 
short  of  slaughter.  It  was  a  cruel  age,  of  in- 
cessant contest,  of  men  accustomed  to  bloody 
sights.  But  there  was  something  so  merciless, 
so  wanton,  in  the  brutal  close  of  the  conflict, 
that  they  said  to  each  other :  — 

"  Van  Heemskerk  would  never  have  so 
treated  a  fallen  foe.  Would  that  he  had 
lived  to  the  end  of  the  day !  " 

It  was  the  remembrance  of  his  death,  of 
the  heavy  tidings  that  must  mitigate  the  glory 
with  which  they  returned  to  Holland,  that 
hardened  the  victors'  hearts.  They  fell  upon 
the  dying  men  who  covered  the  deck  of  the 


WHEN  THE  SMOKE  CLEARED     189 

St.  Augustine,  and  put  them  out  of  their 
misery,  but  not  in  pity.  A  trumpeter  climbed 
up  the  mast  and  hauled  down  D'Avila's  flag, 
the  last  one  flying  for  Spain.  Thus  he 
gained  the  one  hundred  florins  that  Heems- 
kerk  had  offered  that  morning. 

A  number  of  Dutch  prisoners  were  found 
in  the  hold.  They  told  their  rescuers  that 
twice  a  man  had  been  sent  to  kill  them  dur- 
ing the  fray,  and  each  time  the  messenger 
had  been  struck  down  by  a  shot  from  the 
Netherlands'  guns.  This  intelligence  served 
further  to  infuriate  their  countrymen,  already 
beside  themselves,  as  if  they  had  drunken 
bloodshed  until  it  had  made  them  mad.  Some 
of  the  wretches  who  sought  to  escape  their 
swords  and  muskets  flung  themselves  into  the 
water.  Boats  were  let  down,  and  rowed 
among  them,  the  Dutch  shooting,  stabbing, 
and  drowning  by  hundreds.  The  bay  was 
full  of  floating  bodies.  Indeed,  several  thou- 
sands were  thus  put  to  death. 

Among  the  papers  of  D'Avila,  found  when 
the  St.  Augustine  was  searched,  there  were 
secret  instructions  ordering  barbarous  perse- 
cutions of  the  Hollanders,  and  of  those  who 
should  give  them  help  in  any  way  and  any- 
where. This  fact  had  spread  about  among 


190  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

the  fleet.  It  added  the  last  touch  to  their 
ferocity.  They  understood  what  Spanish 
oppression  meant,  and  they  said  they  paid  to- 
day nothing  more  than  the  interest  on  a  debt 
of  ill-usage  borne  by  the  Netherlands  for  a 
century. 

It  was  useless  to  argue  afterwards,  or  to 
point  out  that  evil  for  evil  is  neither  sanc- 
tioned by  the  Gospel,  nor  by  the  unwritten 
law  that  would  show  mercy  to  those  who  can- 
not retaliate.  At  the  time,  all  that  Jan  and 
Giles  could  do  was  to  take  to  a  boat  them- 
selves, and,  keeping  among  the  swarm  of  des- 
olate creatures  swimming  towards  the  shore, 
defend  them  where  they  could,  and  give  suc- 
cor if  it  were  possible.  They  incurred  the 
fury  of  other  pursuers,  bent  upon  butchery, 
rather  than  stand  by,  passive  witnesses  to  the 
wholesale  murder  of  helpless  men. 

The  hulk  of  the  St.  Augustine  drifted 
ashore  after  it  had  been  abandoned  by  the 
Dutch.  Strange  to  say,  a  handful  of  Span- 
iards remained  concealed  within  it,  after  all 
the  ransacking  —  in  quest  of  plunder  and  of 
victims  —  that  the  vessel  had  undergone. 
When  they  reached  land  they  set  fire  to  the 
wreck,  to  prevent  the  Dutch  again  taking 
possession  of  her. 


WHEN  THE  SMOKE  CLEARED     191 

It  was  twilight,  and  the  fight  had  been  in 
progress  since  half-past  three.  All  of  that 
night,  and  until  the  next,  the  Hollanders 
remained  in  the  bay.  By  unspoken  consent, 
the  boys  kept  apart  from  the  others,  side  by 
side  together.  They  saw  the  people  of  the 
town  hurrying  in  terror  away  inland,  carrying 
their  household  possessions. 

"  To  think,"  said  Giles,  "  that  the  despised 
Dutch  rebels  could  spread  such  consternation 
on  the  shores  of  Spain  !  " 

"Yes,  my  countrymen  have  many  a  time 
taken  flight  like  that,"  was  Jan's  rejoinder, 
eyeing  the  busy  scene.  "  We  have  won  a 
tremendous  triumph,  as  the  admiral  prophe- 
sied. The  States  can  dictate  terms  to  Spain. 
But  what  a  price  we  have  paid  !  " 

Giles  understood  what  he  meant.  His 
glance  followed  Jan's  towards  the  spot  where 
preparations  were  making  for  the  embalm- 
ment of  Van  Heemskerk's  body.  The  young 
Dutchman  heaved  a  deep  sigh. 

"  And  if  the  glory  were  but  unsullied  by 
any  touch  of  cruelty  !  " 

"  Don't  be  so  cast  down.  War  is  a  cruel 
trade.  I  never  guessed  how  horrible  it  could 
be  until  I  came  to  see  a  little  of  it  for  myself. 
One  can't  fight  and  keep  one's  sword  free 


192  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

from  stain.  The  main  thing  is  to  be  on  the 
right  side.  And  we  know  that  we  stood 
there." 

"  Yes,"  said  Jan.  "  I  am  heartily  glad  it 
is  all  well-nigh  finished.  I  have  had  enough 
of  it,  for  my  part.  I  hope  I  am  no  coward, 
but  I  never  want  to  besiege  a  town,  nor  take 
part  in  scuttling  a  ship  again." 

"  Nor  I.  We  have  learned  our  lesson. 
But  there  are  other  adventures  to  enjoy. 
There  is  the  New  World  to  conquer.  I  would 
rather  contend  against  wild  beasts,  and  strange 
lands,  and  the  obstacles  of  the  soil,  than 
against  my  fellow-men." 

In  this  tremendous  fight  there  had  been 
only  one  hundred  seamen  killed  on  the  Hol- 
landers' side,  and  not  one  ship  had  been  lost. 
Skipper  Gevaerts  observed,  sitting  in  the  fore- 
castle of  the  ^Eolus  and  relating  his  conver- 
sation with  D'Avila,  that  this  was  rather 
different  from  what  the  Spanish  admiral  had 
foretold,  when  he  could  hardly  speak  for 
laughing. 

The  fleet  was  now  dispersed.  Van  Heems- 
kerk  had  cared  little  for  treasure  and  much 
for  fame.  The  other  commanders  were  not 
so  high-minded.  They  had  thriftier  inten- 
tions. They  sailed  with  their  ships  to  the 


WHEN  THE  SMOKE  CLEARED      193 

Canaries,  the  Azores,  and  the  coast  of  Portu- 
gal, first  touching  on  the  shores  of  Africa. 
Only  two  vessels  were  sent  back  to  Holland 
with, the  news  of  their  gain  and  their  loss. 
One  of  these  bore  the  body  of  their  fallen 
leader.  The  other  carried  sixty  wounded 
men.  Van  Heemskerk  was  given  a  splendidly 
spectacular  funeral  at  Amsterdam,  at  the  ex- 
pense of  the  State.  It  was  the  first  time  the 
republic  had  paid  this  token  of  respect  to  one 
of  her  heroes. 

The  two  friends  returned  to  Holland  at 
their  desire.  They  were  impatient  to  make 
final  arrangements,  and  find  a  place  —  surely 
there  must  be  one  for  them  —  on  an  expedi- 
tion sent  out  by  either  the  new  or  the  older 
India  Company.  The  prince  received  them, 
heard  the  particulars  of  the  battle  of  Gibral- 
tar in  silence,  and  then  he  asked  their  plans. 

"  It  is  the  old  story,"  said  Jan.  "  We  want 
to  sail  for  America." 

"  You  have  had  enough  of  fighting  ?  "  with 
a  keen  glance. 

"  Yes,"  Jan  answered.  He  did  not  explain, 
and  Maurice  understood. 

"  We  all  have,"  was  his  only  comment. 
"  This  armistice  is  to  last  for  eight  months. 
During  that  time  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  our 


194  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

deputies  and  those  of  the  archdukes  can 
arrange,  if  not  peace,  at  all  events  a  truce  for 
fifteen  or  twenty  years.  I  think  we  have 
fought  our  last  for  the  fatherland." 

He  reflected  for  a  moment  before  he  spoke 
further. 

"  Don't  resent  it,  my  lads, — I  trust  you  may 
understand  me,  —  when  I  say  you  were  too 
young  for  soldiers.  You  could  not  help  shrink- 
ing from  what  is  too  often  a  plain  part  of  the 
soldier's  work.  Rely  upon  it,  you  are  not  old 
enough  for  pioneers.  Wait  for  a  twelve- 
month or  two.  Go  to  Paris.  Stay  with  M. 
Chapelain.  Study  more.  Learn  whatsoever 
you  can.  No  voyager  ever  knew  too  much  of 
any  sort  of  useful  knowledge.  In  two  years 
from  now,  if  you  will  come  back  to  me,  I  pro- 
mise, if  I  am  living,  to  find  you  passage  to  the 
New  World.  But  not  now." 

"  It  is  what  Captain  Smith  said,"  Giles  was 
forced  to  acknowledge.  "  He  bade  us  wait." 

"  He  was  right.  Be  sure  he  has  learned,  in 
that  Jamestown  settlement  of  his,  what  poor 
work  unlearned  gentlemen  make  at  colonizing. 
For  the  present  I  will  help  you  in  any  fashion 
on  your  journey  into  France.  God  be  with 
you,  lads !  I  shall  not  forget  you.  I  trust  you 
will  not  forget  Maurice." 


CHAPTER  XIX 
THE  KING'S  SWORD 

THE  Aerssens  family  bade  the  boys  fare- 
well, with  sorrow  upon  both  sides.  They  had 
been  very  kind  to  their  guests,  and  Jan  and 
Giles  appreciated  what  had  been  done  for 
them. 

In  the  course  of  a  week  after  their  inter- 
view with  the  stadholder,  they  were  on  their 
road  to  France.  Maurice  was  better  than  his 
promise.  Guides,  routes,  and  means  of  con- 
veyance were  provided  rather  in  excess  of 
what  the  young  fellows  would  have  liked. 
Their  preference  was  for  roughing  it;  but 
until  after  they  crossed  the  border,  there  was 
no  opportunity  for  any  misfortune. 

One  lovely  night  in  early  June  found  them 
riding  at  ease  through  a  barren  country,  a 
land  that  Sully' s  vigorous  measures  were  im- 
proving, but  still  left  much  to  desire.  Their 
path  led  along  a  stream  bordered  by  a  strip 
of  verdure.  Great  stones  covered  the  bleak 
stretch  on  either  side  this  greener  spot.  Here 


196  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

and  there  they  could  catch  a  glimpse  of  vines, 
or  some  such  trace  of  cultivation. 

"  If  we  cross  that  meadow,"  Giles  sug- 
gested, indicating  the  patch  of  grass  by  the 
water,  "  we  may  strike  the  highway.  I  think 
we  have  lost  it  here." 

"  Lead  on,"  Jan  answered. 

Giles  gave  the  spurs  to  his  horse.  To  his 
surprise  the  animal  snorted  and  backed  away. 
It  half  turned.  It  seemed  determined  not  to 
traverse  the  lowland. 

"  Perhaps  he  smells  a  wolf,"  called  Jan, 
pulling  upon  his  own  rein.  "  Oh,  look  !  Selim 
is  performing  in  the  same  way." 

His  horse  was  rearing  and  plunging.  It 
was  useless  to  urge  either  one.  The  cause 
became  apparent.  Giles,  in  advance  of  his 
friend,  felt  a  quick,  forward  movement.  He 
slipped  in  the  saddle.  His  steed  was  sinking 
beneath  him.  The  frightened  beast  uttered 
a  shrill  cry,  quivering  in  every  limb. 

"  Keep  back !  keep  back  ! "  shouted  Giles. 
"  We  are  in  a  quagmire." 

Jan  was  frantic  with  distress.  There  was 
no  chance  of  assisting  his  companion.  He 
had  all  that  he  could  do  in  managing  Selim. 
He  could  neither  dismount  nor  guide  the 
horse.  Meanwhile,  Giles  saw  that  his  was 


THE  KING'S  SWORD  197 

making  desperate  efforts  to  extricate  his  body. 
He  floundered  on,  each  second  sinking  deeper. 
His  forefeet  struck  a  slender  vein  of  rock. 
He  displayed  the  utmost  intelligence,  ground- 
ing those  two  feet  here,  while  pulling  with 
strength  that  was  given  to  him  for  that  su- 
preme moment. 

With  the  violent  wrench  he  had  jerked  his 
rider  safely  from  the  bog.  Springing  across 
the  brook  he  alighted  on  firmer  soil,  his  sides 
plastered  with  mud  through  which  the  foam 
was  oozing. 

Giles  breathed  a  prayer  of  thanksgiving. 
Jan  joined  in  it  with  all  his  heart,  as  he 
wheeled  his  willing  horse  about  and  sought  a 
crossing  farther  along  the  water. 

They  proceeded  by  the  border  of  the  marsh 
for  three  or  four  miles.  Finally  they  struck 
a  narrow  path  which  wound  on  into  a  wood. 

"  I  don't  fancy  this,"  muttered  the  careful 
Jan.  "  It  looks  like  the  hiding-place  of  rob- 
bers and  murderers.  Are  you  positive  we  are 
on  the  right  road,  Giles  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes.  This  forest  is  accounted  for. 
We  must  cross  it  on  our  way  to  the  night's 
lodgings.  Now  I  rather  like  it.  The  moon 
is  rising ;  we  shall  be  lighted.  And  if  some- 
thing happens,  all  the  better." 


198  IN   TUE  BRAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

Jan  made  a  queer  little  noise  in  his  throat. 

"  Something  is  going  to  happen,"  he  said. 

Giles  listened  intently.     "  It  is  rain." 

"  No,  it  is  not  rain.  There  is  a  combat 
over  there  to  the  left.  Come  on." 

Jan  gave  his  horse  a  slap  with  the  reins 
and  bent  forward  in  his  seat.  The  animal 
broke  into  a  gallop.  Giles  followed  close 
behind.  They  soon  reached  a  small,  green 
glade  in  the  woods.  The  sound  of  striking 
steel  grew  louder.  The  moon  shone  down 
upon  a  singular  group. 

A  little  man  in  riding-clothes,  masked  and 
encumbered  with  a  cloak,  was  backed  against 
an  oak-tree.  He  was  set  upon  by  three  fig- 
ures, all  likewise  masked.  His  sword  flew 
hither  and  thither  like  magic,  parrying  the 
others'  thrusts.  The  unequal  contest  was 
carried  on  without  the  exchange  of  a  syllable. 

Giles  selected  one  antagonist  and  fell  on 
him ;  Jan  on  another.  The  attacked  had 
only  one  adversary  left.  Him  he  quickly  dis- 
armed. He  had  given  a  startled  cry  when  he 
saw  the  two  youths  flying  thus  to  his  rescue. 
The  opposing  party  still  uttered  no  sound. 
Giles  wounded  his  man  slightly  in  the  sword- 
arm.  Jan  forced  his  to  the  ground.  He  was 
the  leader,  for,  as  the  boy  raised  him  to  his 


THE  KING'S  SWORD  199 

feet,  he  gravely  and  silently  bowed  his  grati- 
tude, and  glided  away  through  the  trees.  The 
others  instantly  followed. 

The  little  man  turned  that  eerie-looking 
black  velvet  mask  full  upon  his  rescuers. 
"  To  whom  am  I  indebted  ?  "  he  inquired  in 
a  rich  and  winning  voice,  "for  this  unex- 
pected succor  ?  " 

Giles  told  him  their  names.  He  repeated 
his  thanks. 

"  I  trust  you  are  uninjured,  sir  ?  "  said  Jan. 

"  Oh,  quite.  It  was  nothing,  my  good 
young  friends.  The  whole  affair  was  no- 
thing. They  dared  not  so  much  as  wound 
me.  They  simply  wished  to  hold  me  as  a  sort 
of  hostage  to  certain  desires  of  their  chief's." 

The  boys  felt  curiously  reproved.  They 
knew  that  they  had  done  the  man  service,  and 
yet  his  manner  betrayed  annoyance,  and  — 
they  fancied  —  a  wish  to  get  rid  of  them. 

"  Believe  me,  I  am  truly  obliged,"  he  re- 
peated. "  And  now  —  I  will  not  detain  you 
longer  upon  your  journey." 

Thus  curtly  dismissed,  they  again  set  out 
to  return  to  the  path.  On  the  way  they 
passed  two  horses  under  another  tree,  at  a 
considerable  distance  from  the  open  space. 
A  man,  also  masked,  lay  wrapped  in  his 


200  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

cloak,  and  soundly  snoring  beside  the  tethered 
beasts. 

"  What  a  mystery  !  "  Giles  exclaimed. 

They  had  some  difficulty  in  finding  the 
road.  As  they  jogged  along  it,  their  tired 
horses  stumbling  over  every  obstacle,  the  clat- 
ter of  hoofs  came  from  behind  them.  Two 
men  rode  gayly  by  at  a  canter.  The  smaller 
waved  his  hand  and  called  out,  "  Well  met 
once  more  !  "  as  he  passed  them. 

"  It  is  our  friend  who  resented  our  assist- 
ance," said  Jan,  watching  his  figure  grow  dim 
in  the  distance. 

When  they  arrived  at  the  roadside  inn 
which  was  to  shelter  them  for  the  night,  he 
pointed  out  to  Giles  two  horses  tied  near  the 
door.  "  We  have  overtaken  those  men,"  he 
observed. 

They  found  them  inside  the  place,  seated 
astride  the  rough  benches,  drinking  with  a 
company  of  peasants,  who  were  enjoying  the 
wine  at  the  strangers'  expense.  One  man  was 
evidently  a  servant ;  the  other  was  the  boys' 
acquaintance  of  the  forest.  Such  of  his  fea- 
tures as  could  be  traced  through  the  mask 
were  the  smiling  mouth,  showing,  underneath 
the  heavy  beard  and  shaggy  moustaches,  the 
nutcracker  jaw  and  the  sparkling  eyes. 


THE  KING'S  SWORD  201 

Those  eyes  shot  a  lightning  glance  towards 
the  new-comers.  They  interpreted  it  rightly 
to  mean,  "  Silence  !  "  That  encounter  was 
to  remain  a  secret.  The  merry-making  trav- 
eler invited  them  to  drink  with  him.  They 
excused  themselves,  saying  that  they  required 
food  first  of  all. 

While  the  landlord  was  occupied  in  pro- 
ducing such  fare  as  his  house  could  boast, 
Giles  and  Jan  were  amused  at  the  conversa- 
tion that  was  going  on  among  the  party  at 
the  other  end  of  the  little  room.  They  were 
discussing  weapons.  They  thought  the  ser- 
vant was  nervous,  and  anxious  to  get  his  mas- 
ter away.  The  master  lingered,  playing  some 
feats  of  swordsmanship  for  the  simple  aston- 
ishment of  the  peasants. 

"Do  you  know  the  temper  of  a  Toledo 
blade  ?  "  he  asked.  "  See  this  !  " 

He  drew  the  sword  from  a  scabbard  that 
sparkled  with  jewels.  His  man  made  a  quick 
step  forward.  He  had  seen  the  lookers-on 
open  their  eyes  at  those  flashing  gems.  The 
little  gentleman  shook  his  head  at  him  laugh- 
ingly. He  fell  back  into  his  place. 

It  was  a  strong,  steady  arm  that  wielded 
the  heavy  blade.  It  dashed  it  again  and 
again  with  the  utmost  force  against  the  stone 


202  IN   THE  BEAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

wall.  Then  the  owner  passed  it  about  from 
hand  to  hand  for  inspection.  There  was  not 
a  trace  of  harm  upon  it. 

"  But  my  arm  aches  to  the  shoulder,"  said 
he,  rubbing  it. 

Jan  examined  the  hilt  of  the  sword,  rather 
than  its  point.  So  the  swordsman  noticed. 
He  stepped  hastily  forward.  He  bent  over 
the  boy  as  if  to  recover  his  property.  Giles 
thought  he  muttered  something  in  the  ear  of 
his  friend.  The  two  wayfarers  by  and  by 
departed,  the  servant  showing  signs  of  relief, 
the  master  gay  and  talkative  to  the  last. 
Giles  and  Jan  were  shown  to  their  sleeping- 
quarters.  They  were,  for  the  first  time, 
alone. 

"  What  did  that  man  whisper  to  you  ? " 
demanded  Giles,  kicking  off  his  heavy  boots. 

Jan  smiled  mischievously.  "  He  said, ( You 
have  kept  one  secret.  Preserve  this  other  for 
my  sake.'  ' 

"  What  did  he  mean  ?  " 

"  Simply  that  I  had  recognized  —  and  he 
saw  I  had  —  the  royal  arms  of  France." 

Giles  dropped  one  boot  with  a  crash.  "  That 
was  n't  Henry  of  Navarre  ?  " 

"  It  was  no  other  man  in  Christendom." 

Afterwards  they  heard  gossip  to  which  they 


THE  KING'S  SWORD  203 

patched  the  incident  of  that  kingly  contest 
in  the  forest,  and  made  sense  of  the  whole. 
D'Entrague  had  set  upon  his  Majesty,  who 
was  stealing  in  disguise  to  an  interview  with  his 
assailant's  daughter.  Both  sides  were  anx- 
ious to  keep  the  escapade  from  the  world.  It 
became  public  through  one  of  the  attendants. 

The  next  day  our  friends  rode  into  Paris, 
—  a  very  different  Paris  from  the  city  of  to- 
day. The  streets  were  crooked,  narrow,  and 
dirty.  The  flimsy  houses  encroached  upon 
each  other,  shutting  out  light  and  air.  Ar- 
mies of  starving  dogs  fed  upon  the  refuse 
with  which  the  gutters  were  piled.  The  lanes 
that  threaded  the  town  were  unsafe  after 
dark.  Henry  and  Sully  were  doing  what 
they  could  to  mend  this  bad  state  of  affairs. 
They  could  effect  but  a  small  part  of  the  gen- 
eral reformation  that  was  required. 

After  all,  Paris  meant  home  now  to  these 
boys.  Mme.  Chapelain  gave  them  each  a 
motherly  embrace.  Her  husband  was  hearty 
in  his  welcome.  Dame  Try  on  wept  for  joy 
at  the  sight  of  them ;  pretty  Annemie  de- 
clared that  she  should  scarcely  have  known 
her  brother  or  his  friend. 

"  You  have  so  grown,"  she  said,  with  a 
coquettish  glance. 


204  IN  THE  BRAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

"  And  improved  ?  "  asked  Giles,  laughing. 

She  made  another  swift  observation  from 
beneath  her  curling  lashes.  "  Well,  yes,"  she 
answered.  "You  have  become  manly  and 
fine,  —  Jan  and  you." 

Two  years  went  speedily  and  happily  by. 
In  the  bitter  cold  of  the  following  winter  they 
heard  of  the  meeting  of  Maurice  and  Spinola 
upon  the  Hoorn  bridge,  outside  the  Hague,  — 
their  first  encounter  in  peace  and  in  the  inter- 
ests of  peace.  The  long-delayed  arrangements 
were  still  postponed.  The  treaty  for  a  twelve 
years'  truce  was  only  signed  on  the  9th  of 
April  in  1609. 

Meanwhile  the  young  Englishman  and  the 
young  Dutchman  were  hard  at  work  in  their 
French  home.  They  studied,  as  the  prince 
had  recommended,  and  observed  and  asked 
questions,  and  tried  experiments  in  every 
direction  which  might  prove  of  value  to  them 
in  the  land  towards  which  they  were  always 
looking. 

They  relied  upon  Maurice's  promise.  It 
proved  trustworthy.  On  a  certain  March 
morning  Giles  bounded  into  the  room  where 
madame  sat  at  her  lace-work  with  the  two 
girls.  Jan  was  close  at  his  heels.  They 
waved  a  paper  in  triumph. 


THE  KING'S  SWOED  205 

"  It  has  come  !  it  has  come  !  "  cried  Jan. 

"  We  are  to  sail  with  Hendrik  Hudson," 
Giles  exclaimed. 

Annemie  burst  into  tears.  Meg  hid  her 
face  in  her  hands.  Mme.  Chapelain  herself 
grew  pale.  "  Oh,  my  dear  boys,"  she  fal- 
tered ;  "  it  is  so  hazardous !  You  may  never 
return  to  us." 

"  Yes,  we  will,"  Giles  answered,  putting  his 
arms  around  his  little  sister.  "  We  will  come 
back  some  day  or  other  for  you,  too." 


CHAPTER  XX 

ON    THE    HALF    MOON 

THE  friends  were  interested  in  the  bustling 
activity  of  Amsterdam.  The  discoveries  made 
in  the  past  century  had  opened  up  an  enor- 
mous traffic,  in  which  the  Netherlands  took 
the  most  important  part.  Amsterdam  was 
their  commercial  capital.  Its  population  had 
nearly  doubled  in  the  last  twenty  years.  It 
was  to  gain  more  than  double  in  the  coming 
decade.  Those  who  crowded  into  the  city, 
to  seek  their  fortunes,  often  built  themselves 
temporary  huts  in  the  suburbs.  A  bit  of 
land  that  a  man's  hand  could  almost  cover 
was  worth  a  ducat.  The  narrow  streets,  with 
their  canal-ways,  were  alive  with  hurrying 
men,  intent  upon  making  money.  The  East 
India  Company's  house  was  pointed  out  to  the 
boys,  where  they  were  to  meet  their  captain. 

This  was  a  handsome,  substantial  building, 
two  stories  in  height,  with  imposing  gables 
and  tiny-paned  windows  ornamented  by  cor- 
nices. The  doors  were  approached  by  high 


ON   THE  HALF  MOON  207 

flights  of  steps,  such  as  one  sees  in  the  mod- 
ern American  city  house  of  a  familiar  type. 

When  the  boys  drew  near,  two  men  were 
talking  together  in  the  court.  One  looked  at 
them,  said  a  few  words  to  the  other,  and 
seemed  to  take  his  leave.  He  came  forward 
and  saluted  Jan. 

"  This  is  young  Verrooy,  I  think  ?  "  he  said 
in  Dutch. 

Jan  answered  him. 

"  And  this  is  Giles  Valentine  ?  " 

He  spoke  in  excellent  English.  "  I  am  a 
countryman  of  yours,"  he  went  on,  taking 
each  by  the  arm  and  walking  away  with  them. 
"  I  am  rejoiced  to  fall  in  with  two  of  my  fel- 
low-travelers." 

"  Are  you  Master  Hendrik  Hudson  ?  "  in- 
quired Giles  in  surprise. 

"  Henry  Hudson,  yes.  I  have  come  to 
Holland  to  take  the  Half  Moon  upon  this 
voyage,  but  I  am  no  Hollander." 

He  was  a  handsome  man,  with  wavy  hair, 
regular  features,  and  large,  brilliant  eyes. 
His  manner,  strolling  along  between  the  two 
young  fellows,  was  particularly  frank  and 
pleasing.  They  were  captivated  by  his  con- 
descension. 

"  I  have  heard  of  you  lads  from  my  friend, 


208  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

Captain  John  Smith,"  Hudson  went  on. 
"  When  we  met  last  summer  in  London,  he 
asked  had  I  seen  aught  of  ye  in  the  Low 
Countries.  But  I  had  been  cruising  wi'  an 
English  company,  and  so,  methinks,  I  missed 
ye.  I  had  scarce  landed  again  in  Amsterdam 
ere  Prince  Maurice  told  me  of  your  wish.  Ye 
have  powerful  allies,  you  younkers." 

61  And  good  ones,"  assented  Jan  heartily. 
"  It  was  right  kind  of  Captain  Smith  to  bear 
us  in  mind  so  long.  Goes  all  well  with  him 
in  his  Jamestown  settlement  ?  " 

"  Indifferent  well,"  answered  Hudson.  "  He 
is  in  England  for  a  season.  Court  and  peo- 
ple talk  of  naught  save  his  strange  happen- 
ings. Another  friend  of  his  and  mine,  one 
Robert  Juet,  sails  with  us  in  the  Half  Moon." 

After  they  set  out,  the  boys  learned  that 
Juet  was  the  only  other  Englishman  on  board. 
The  crew  were  Dutch,  —  a  rough,  wild  set, 
from  whom  they  kept  as  much  aloof  as  might 
be.  The  mate  was  kind  to  them,  as  was  the 
captain.  The  men  quickly  raised  a  cry  of 
favoritism,  and  took  a  dislike  to  Giles  on 
account  of  his  nationality.  He  speedily  saw 
that,  if  it  were  not  for  Jan,  his  life  would  be 
rendered  miserable. 

A  disappointment   met   these   two   before 


ON  THE  HALF  MOON  209 

they  had  well  left  port.  Since  the  prince 
and  Hudson  both  understood  their  desire  to 
visit  America,  they  supposed  that  this  must 
be  the  destination  for  which  they  had  shipped. 

"  But  what  do  you  think  the  mate  just  told 
me  ?  "  Jan  informed  his  friend.  "  This  is 
nothing  more  nor  less  than  a  voyage  of  ex- 
ploration, an  attempt  to  find  a  shorter  way  to 
the  East,  either  at  the  northeast  or  the  north- 
west. We  are  bound  for  the  coast  of  Nova 
Zembla." 

"  And  not  to  the  West  at  all  ?  " 

"  No.  It  will  be  a  polar  expedition.  The 
mate  says  that  Henry  Hudson  knows  as  much 
of  the  northern  waters  as  any  man  living." 

Giles  gave  a  groan  of  discomfiture.  "  I 
can't  understand  Prince  Maurice,"  he  said. 
"  He  told  us  in  his  letter  that  this  was  our 
long-looked-for  chance,  as  if  America  was 
almost  in  sight." 

"  Nor  can  I  comprehend  our  captain.  He 
has  spoken  in  the  same  fashion  more  than 
once  to  me." 

Jan  accordingly  put  a  respectful  question 
to  Hudson  at  the  earliest  opportunity.  Their 
leader  gave  a  peculiar  smile. 

"  Wait  and  see,"  was  all  he  said. 

On  the  little  Half  Moon  sailed,  through  the 


210  IN   THE  BRAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

North  Sea,  around  the  North  Cape,  on  towards 
Nova  Zembla.  Here  Hudson  had  been  di- 
rected by  the  East  India  Company  to  seek  a 
passage  by  the  north  and  east  sides  of  the 
island.  Ice  began  to  impede  them.  Day  by 
day  they  found  it  harder  to  struggle  through 
its  fields.  Every  hour  brought  new  difficul- 
ties, while  they  struck  out  futile  paths  in  the 
lanes  of  water  between  broad  plains  of  ice 
that  closed  tighter  and  more  impassably  about 
them.  The  risk  of  loss  to  the  ship  was  tre- 
mendous. The  certainty  came  that  they 
should  be  imprisoned  in  the  floes  if  they  did 
not  beat  a  rapid  retreat. 

"  It  is  what  the  captain  has  known  all  the 
time,"  Juet  said  in  confidence  to  Giles.  "  The 
company  were  resolved  he  should  try  this 
course.  There  was  naught  for  him  but  to 
essay  it." 

"  Now  will  he  strike  out  due  west  ?  "  Giles 
questioned  eagerly. 

"  What  other  way  is  there  ?  Ah  !  here 's 
the  pipe  for  all  hands  on  board.  We  will  see 
what  Hudson's  plans  may  be." 

The  commander  proceeded  to  lay  them  be- 
fore his  men. 

"  There  has  been  a  vast  deal  of  grumbling 
of  late,"  he  said,  "  while  we  endeavored  to 


ON  THE  HALF  MOON  211 

push  on  in  the  way  pointed  out  to  us  by  the 
company  whose  servants  we  are.  We  have 
proven  it  to  be  impracticable.  Two  courses 
still  lie  before  us.  We  can  try  to  make  the 
northwest  passage,  or  we  can  sail  farther 
south  along  the  coast  of  America.  I  myself 
am  confident  that  there  is  an  arm  of  the  sea 
jutting  through  the  land  somewhere  north  of 
the  Virginia  colony.  I  believe  that  it  would 
lead  us  to  the  Indies.  Men,  which  shall  it 
be  ?  I  leave  the  decision  to  you." 

They  were  all  suffering  from  cold.  They 
hated  this  strange,  white  region  in  its  loneli- 
ness and  isolation. 

"  The  southern  way  !  "  cried  every  one. 

Hudson  smiled.  It  was  his  fondest  dream 
to  find  that  watercourse  that  would  give  un- 
dying fame  to  its  explorer,  and  overwhelming 
advantages  to  the  world,  now  all  intent  upon 
a  "  short  cut "  in  the  much-traveled  road  to 
India.  He  fancied  himself  a  second  Colum- 
bus, with,  if  it  should  please  Providence,  a 
happier  fate.  His  views  had  not  been  at- 
tended to  by  the  company.  He  had  cun- 
ningly brought  the  crew  to  choose  their  way, 
so  that  nothing  could  be  set  down  in  their 
movements,  whatever  happened,  as  his  own 
visionary  scheme.  He  was  sailing,  at  the 


212  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

demand  of  others,  on  his  longed-for  path  to 
the  west. 

In  about  six  weeks  land  came  in  sight,  the 
fog-haunted  banks  of  what  is  now  called 
Newfoundland. 

"  We  are  still  too  far  to  the  north,"  said 
Hudson. 

Due  south  they  steered.  Day  by  day,  in  the 
pleasant  weather,  they  coasted  a  vast  tract  of 
land  that  stretched  out  into  interminable  ex- 
tent. Giles  asked  the  mate  once  as  to  the 
colonists  in  this  country.  He  was  thinking 
of  his  idea,  and  Jan's,  of  some  day  finding  a 
home  there ;  of  living  a  full,  free  life  among 
those  wonderful  forests. 

"  Jamestown  is  no  place  for  you,"  said 
Juet.  "  'T  is  choked  full  o'  adventurers  and 
idle  gentlemen.  Sickness  and  starvation,  with 
bloody  dissensions,  are  the  tale  of  that  settle- 
ment. The  Engh'sh  have  made,  and  aban- 
doned, a  footing  to  the  north,  in  what  the 
French  fur  traders,  who  are  established  there, 
call  Acadia.  The  Spanish  are  far  to  the 
south.  They  have  made  other  attempts,  't  is 
said,  to  found  colonies  "  (these  were  in  Ne- 
braska, New  Mexico,  Texas,  and  Utah). 
"  There  are  Frenchmen  not  many  miles  from 
Jamestown  "  (in  South  Carolina).  "  Other- 


ON  THE  HALF  MOON  213 

wise,"  and  he  laughed,  "  methinks  you  two 
could  pick  out  a  home  anywhere  in  these 
thousands  of  leagues,  and  fight  out  possession 
with  the  savages  alone." 

Jan  now  joined  them.  "  There  is  the 
usual  complaining  in  the  fo'castle,"  he  ob- 
served, seating  himself  beside  the  others. 
"  The  men  say  that  we  have  certainly  reached 
that  mysterious  arm  of  the  sea  in  the  body  of 
water  to  the  starboard.  Yet  there  are  rumors 
that  we  are  not  even  to  explore  it,  but  are  to 
put  about  and  sail  due  north." 

Giles  looked  at  Juet,  who  nodded  saga- 
ciously. "  Ay,  ay,"  said  he.  "  The  captain 
has  found  his  bearings.  He  has  been  search- 
ing in  the  dark  ere  this.  John  Smith  told 
him  of  this  bay,  —  for  't  is  but  a  bay,  mighty 
though  its  waters  seem  —  and  that  'twas  to  the 
north  that  he  had  heard  tales  of  an  inland- 
stretching  sea.  We  shall  be  upon  the  right 
road  now,  lads,  —  the  road  mayhap  to  India." 

"  I  hope,  for  the  captain's  sake,  't  is  true," 
Giles  answered.  "  For  mine  own  self,  I  would 
fain  tarry  in  this  America." 

"  And  I,"  Jan  added,  his  eyes  sweeping  the 
lofty  horizon,  "  to  the  end  of  my  days." 

"  To  have  thy  bones  picked  by  cannibals?" 
Juet  inquired  with  a  grim  smile.  "  Captain 


214  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

Smith  could  tell  thee  tales  of  the  natives' 
fiendish  ways." 

Jan  touched  his  knife  significantly.  "I 
should  die  protesting,"  he  answered. 

"  And  in  these  times  a  man  must  fight 
wheresoe'er  he  be,"  said  Giles.  "  There  is 
no  such  thing  as  peace.  Here,  at  the  least,  are 
discoveries  to  be  made,  lands  to  be  occu- 
pied, homes  to  be  raised,  and,  I  trow,  friend- 
ships to  form  among  those  savages,  —  canni- 
bals, as  you  call  them.  They  have  not  all 
proved  unkindly  to  the  Virginia  settlers." 

"  New  countries  for  the  young,"  said  Juet, 
rising  to  seek  the  captain.  "  For  me,  seafar- 
ing is  a  pretty  trade  enow.  But  may  my 
frame  be  laid  in  the  Limehouse  churchyard 
at  the  last,  an'  it  go  not  to  the  bottom  of  the 
sea  in  some  storm  or  other  !  " 

As  he  had  foreseen,  the  course  was  changed. 
Jan  told  the  men  of  Smith's  directions,  and 
of  their  leader's  reasoning.  They  were  satis- 
fied in  regard  to  this  point,  yet  they  resented 
the  youth's  superior  information. 

"  The  English  are  all  for  the  English,"  they 
grumbled.  "  Why  should  you  be  in  the  cap- 
tain's secrets  because  your  crony  is  his  coun- 
tryman ?  Why  should  the  fame  of  finding 
the  passage  be  given  to  another  nation  ? 


ON  THE  HALF  MOON  215 

Why  did  not  the  company  send  out  the  Half 
Moon  under  a  Hollander  ?  " 

Jan  knew  that  sailors  were  proverbially  dis- 
contented. Still,  he  thought  that  their  pre- 
sent attitude,  among  such  scamps  as  many  of 
the  crew  daily  showed  themselves  to  be, 
threatened  harm  to  some  one,  —  scarcely  to 
the  captain  or  to  the  mate,  —  but  very  proba- 
bly to  Giles. 

One  soft,  bright  day  in  the  late  summer, 
there  was  a  cry  from  the  lookout :  not  land, 
but  water,  was  what  they  were  seeking.  Af- 
ter leaving  the  mouth  of  the  Chesapeake,  they 
had  sailed  in  time  past  the  Delaware,  and  yet 
Hudson  was  confident  that  this  was  not  the 
much  talked  of  "  arm  of  the  sea  "  for  which 
he  was  in  quest.  Still  they  sped  to  the  north. 
Now  here  they  found  the  ocean  ran  landward 
into  an  expanse  of  bay. 

Giles  scrambled  aloft  for  a  further  survey. 
He  slid  down  to  the  deck  to  seek  his  captain. 
He  raced  to  the  cabin.  Men  were  runnino- 
hither  and  thither  in  no  little  excitement. 
Hudson  strove  to  be  calm,  although  his  bright 
eyes  shone  like  stars. 

'T  is  the  passage  to  India,"  Giles  declared. 

The  fingers  trembled  that  were  rolling  a 

chart.     Hudson's  tone  was  not  quite  under 


216  IN  TUE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

control.  "  I  believe  thee,"  was  all  he  trusted 
himself  to  say. 

On  they  pushed  their  way.  A  great  river 
lay  before  them,  lined  to  the  west  with  a 
rocky  wall.  An  island  faced  them,  its  green 
hills  crowned  with  trees,  and  sloping  to  the 
water's  edge.  Masses  of  flowering  vines  flung 
a  veil  over  the  stately  forest.  Dashes  of  bril- 
liant color  threw  out  the  blossoms  against  the 
verdure. 

A  little  curl  of  smoke  rose  gently  from  a 
distant  valley.  It  was  like  an  enchanted  pic- 
ture of  a  fairy  world. 

"  'T  is  a  good  and  pleasant  land,"  quoth 
Hudson. 

As  they  thronged  to  the  vessel's  side  to 
view  the  scene,  a  creature,  such  as  none  of 
them  had  ever  spied  before,  marched  slowly 
from  the  shadow  of  the  trees.  This  was  a 
tall,  straight  figure,  of  a  dusky,  reddish  skin, 
clad  in  a  scanty  dress  of  tanned  fur,  and  bear- 
ing a  bow  in  one  hand.  A  quiver  hung  over 
his  shoulder.  His  black  hair  was  braided  on 
one  side,  and  flowing  loosely  on  the  other 
about  his  stern,  set  features.  He  stalked  on, 
unsuspectingly,  to  the  water.  He  reached  the 
beach.  His  sharp  eyes  were  raised  from  the 
ground  upon  which  they  had  been  bent. 


ON  THE  HALF  MOON  217 

For  a  short  space  of  time  he  stood  still  as  a 
statue.  Then  he  uttered  a  whoop  that  cut 
through  the  awful  silence  like  a  knife.  He 
wheeled  about,  and  sprang  with  the  fleetness 
of  a  deer  into  the  security  of  the  woods 
again. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

TAKEN    CAPTIVE 

"  I  WISH  he  had  n't  disappeared  so  quickly," 
said  Jan.  "  Still,  I  suppose  we  shall  see 
enough  of  the  savages  before  we  have  made 
our  way  through  the  land." 

"  Lucky  for  us,"  growled  one  of  the  crew, 
"  if  we  do  not  see  far  too  much  of  them.  I 
am  afraid  of  the  red  men.  Aha !  he  is  coming 
back,  bringing  some  of  his  friends  with  him." 

A  number  of  birch  canoes  shot  around  the 
end  of  the  island.  A  supple  figure  sat  in  each, 
paddling  rapidly  in  the  direction  of  the  ship. 
Meanwhile  their  hosts  awaited  them  in  the 
keenest  curiosity.  The  natives  climbed  nim- 
bly up  the  ropes  that  were  flung  to  them,  and 
swarmed  upon  the  deck.  The  white  men 
gathered  around  them,  making  signs,  laugh- 
ing freely,  acting  as  if  these  were  monkeys, 
able  to  amuse  them  without  comprehending 
the  contempt  in  which  they  were  held. 

"  I  don't  like  it,"  said  Giles  aside. 

"  Nor  I,"  Jan  answered.     "  This  is  their 


TAKEN  CAPTIVE  219 

home,  not  ours.  They  welcome  us.  I  wish 
our  men  behaved  less  like  the  heathen,  when 
they  themselves  have  such  Christian  ways." 

The  visitors  produced  long  copper  pipes, 
showing  the  crew  their  method  of  filling  and 
lighting  them,  and  the  tobacco  they  carried. 
The  captain  and  mate  had  acquired  the  habit 
of  smoking,  perhaps  from  John  Smith  him- 
self. Tradition  says  that  Hudson  introduced 
tobacco  into  Holland.  At  all  events,  many 
of  the  men  understood  its  uses.  They  wak- 
ened a  smile  in  the  savages  by  snatching  and 
puffing  upon  their  pipes.  Next,  the  Indians 
brought  out  baskets  of  oysters,  and  showed 
them  how  to  open  the  shells.  This  was  a 
very  acceptable  gift,  although  the  receivers 
might  have  manifested  less  greed  and  more 
gratitude.  Another  present  was  not  hailed 
with  any  pretense  of  thanks,  except  from  the 
officers  and  the  two  boys.  The  Indians  called 
them  "  pompions."  They  were  great  golden 
balls,  that  looked  like  a  rare  sort  of  orange. 
They  cut  hopefully  through  the  rind,  and  bit 
generous  mouthfuls  from  the  core.  But  raw 
pumpkin  was  not  at  all  to  their  liking. 

"  They  appear  very  friendly,"  said  Giles, 
"  if  the  crew  would  treat  them  decently." 

"  At  least  Hudson  will  do  his  part,"  Jan 


220  IN  THE  BRAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

replied.  "  He  is  going  to  invite  some  of  them 
to  a  dinner,  and  have  his  men  show  them 
tricks  and  sports.  He  thinks  it  is  wise  to  be 
on  good  terms  with  the  natives  before  he  ven- 
tures inland." 

All  began  well  with  this  entertainment. 
There  were  songs  and  dances,  and  some  sim- 
ple attempts  at  sleight-of-hand  that  amazed 
the  red  men.  A  squaw  was  one  of  the  party. 
She  was  ugly  and  worn,  like  all  Indian  wives, 
but  her  dignity  and  modest  behavior  were 
very  pleasing  to  Giles  and  his  friend,  who 
waited  upon  her,  and  saw  that  she  had  a  good 
position  from  which  to  witness  the  sailors' 
performance.  She  accepted  their  attentions 
in  stiff  silence,  unaccustomed  as  she  must  have 
been  to  such  kindness.  They  could  not  have 
told  that  she  noticed  any  difference  between 
their  manner  and  that  of  the  others.  They 
had  forgotten  all  about  her,  when  she  came 
up  to  Jan,  as  he  stood  at  the  outer  circle  of 
the  gazers,  and  touched  him  imperiously  on 
the  shoulder.  He  glanced  in  surprise  at  her 
shriveled  face.  She  lifted  her  hand  in  a 
beckoning  gesture. 

"  She  wants  you  to  follow  her,"  said  Giles, 
who  was  watching  them  attentively.  "  Let 
us  see  what  it  is  she  means." 


TAKEN  CAPTIVE  221 

The  woman  led  the  way  across  the  deck, 
looking  back  once  or  twice  to  see  if  they  un- 
derstood and  were  coming  too.  Behind  a  coil 
of  rope  she  paused.  She  pointed  at  her  feet. 
The  boys  glanced  over  her  shoulder. 

The  chief  lay  on  the  deck.  His  head  was 
pitched  forward  upon  his  breast ;  his  arms  and 
legs  were  twisted  underneath  him.  He  looked 
as  if  he  had  been  thrown  down  in  a  heap  and 
left  there.  The  woman  crouched  beside  him, 
touching  his  closed  eyes,  his  mouth,  and  his 
breast.  She  raised  one  hand :  it  fell  heavily 
back  to  his  side.  Her  features  quivered ;  her 
dark  eyes,  gazing  piteously  up  at  the  boys, 
were  like  those  of  some  harmless  beast  that 
had  been  trapped. 

The  man  had  been  given  strong  drink. 

"  Oh,  those  wretches  !  "  Jan  hissed  between 
his  teeth.  "  Some  of  the  sailors  have  been 
plying  the  poor  fellow  with  aqua  vitce.  How 
furious  Hudson  will  be  !  " 

"  She  thinks  he  is  ill,"  said  Giles.  "  It  is 
hard  to  know  how  to  undeceive  her." 

Another  Indian  stole  up  at  the  moment. 
He  saw  his  chief's  deplorable  state.  There 
was  a  loud,  shrill  outcry.  In  an  instant  the 
deck  was  alive  with  men.  They  flocked  about 
the  figure  and  the  woman  kneeling  at  her 


222  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

husband's  head.  They  consulted  together, 
eyes  flashing  and  hands  waving  to  and  fro,  or 
clutching  meaningly  at  their  arrows.  Some 
one  produced  a  string  of  beads  and  laid  them 
about  the  chieftain's  neck.  They  watched, 
apparently  with  high  hopes  for  a  time;  but 
these  had  no  effect  upon  him,  although  they 
were  a  valued  charm.  Then  a  warrior  stooped 
over  the  squaw  Winona,  and  asked  her  some 
question.  She  looked  up,  swept  the  circle 
about  with  her  sad  eyes,  and  rested  them  on 
one  sailor's  face.  He  shrank  back,  but  it 
was  too  late.  She  leveled  her  forefinger  at 
him,  uttering  a  torrent  of  sound.  The  red 
men  seized  him.  Their  menacing  gestures 
alarmed  the  entire  crew.  The  accused,  one 
Dirk  Bloom,  set  up  a  vehement  appeal  for 
help. 

Hudson  looked  perplexed,  as  truly  he  felt. 
He  must  protect  his  men.  Yet  this  indig- 
nity placed  upon  their  principal  guest  was 
supposed  by  the  Indians  to  be  of  peculiar 
treachery.  He  crossed  to  Bloom's  side,  call- 
ing out  as.  he  moved  :  — 

"  For  our  lives  we  must  pretend  to  do  then* 
bidding.  Don't  resist !  Don't  resist !  They 
are  five  to  one  and  armed." 

He  made  rapid  motions  to  the  furious  vis- 


TAKEN  CAPTIVE  223 

itors.  Happily  the  other  white  men  saw  what 
he  meant,  and  joined  in  his  artifice.  He  as- 
sured Winona  and  her  adherents  —  among 
them  her  son,  the  young  chief  —  that  he  him- 
self would  bind  the  offender  (suiting  the  ac- 
tion to  the  word),  and  he  gestured  that  death 
should  follow,  but  not  now,  if  they  wished  it. 

They  sullenly  acquiesced.  The  body  of 
the  grossly  deceived  savage  was  carried  to  a 
canoe.  His  wife  and  boy  followed,  and  the 
Indians  all  quitted  the  ship.  Hudson  drew  a 
long  breath  of  relief. 

"  We  are  not  out  of  the  scrape,"  he  said  to 
the  culprit.  "  When  I  think  what  you  have 
brought  upon  us,  I  am  minded  to  string  you 
up  to  the  yardarm  with  my  own  hands." 

Bloom  muttered  sulkily  that  he  had  in- 
tended no  harm. 

"  You  knew  what  a  ticklish  business  our 
inland  voyage  would  be,  and  how  necessary 
was  the  natives'  alliance.  To  think  you  should 
imperil  all  our  chances  for  a  brutal  joke  !  " 

However,  on  the  following  day,  the  chief 
made  his  reappearance  at  the  Half  Moon's 
side.  He  was  rather  sheepish,  but  good-na- 
tured as  ever.  His  followers,  too,  behaved  as 
if  they  had  lost  their  animosity.  Hudson  did 
not  understand  the  character  of  the  men  with 


224  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

whom  he  had  to  deal.  He  did  not  know  that 
this  affectation  of  forgiveness  was  part  of  their 
sly  vindictiveness  that  only  awaited  a  safe 
opportunity  for  revenge.  He  lost  his  fears, 
released  Bloom,  and  he,  the  mate,  and  the 
crew  speedily  forgot  the  whole  affair. 

"But  I  don't  like  Winona's  look,"  said 
Jan  to  his  comrade.  "  I  have  seen  her  glance 
at  Bloom  when  she  thought  no  one  noticed 
her ;  and  I  think  we  have  n't  heard  the  last 
of  her  husband's  adventure." 

The  older  men  were  not  of  his  opinion. 
Preparations  were  making  for  the  journey  up 
the  river,  —  the  journey  that,  so  they  thought, 
would  conduct  them  through  the  country 
to  Asia.  On  the  afternoon  before  that  ap- 
pointed for  the  voyage,  Giles  saw  the  sailor 
of  the  drinking  escapade  lower  himself  into  a 
boat. 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  "  he  called  in  his 
faltering  Dutch. 

"  On  shore,"  was  the  curt  reply.  He  bent 
to  his  oars.  Giles  hastened  to  the  cabin, 
made  a  hurried  request  for  leave  of  absence, 
and  was  back  again  in  a  twinkling.  Bloom 
stared  in  amazement  when  he  dropped  into 
the  boat  beside  him. 

"  What  is  this  for  ?  "  he  asked. 


TAKEN  CAPTIVE  225 

"  I  am  going  with  you." 

"  But  why  ?  I  am  sent  for  water.  That 
keg,"  he  thrust  out  his  foot  towards  it,  "  is 
not  so  heavy  as  to  call  for  two  to  carry  it." 

"  Say,  then,  that  I  choose  to  go,"  Giles 
retorted. 

Bloom  especially  disliked  the  young  Eng- 
lishman, who  had  not  invariably  concealed  his 
hatred  of  the  other's  cruelty  and  coarseness. 

"  I  don't  choose  to  have  you  go,"  said  he, 
laying  down  his  oars. 

Giles  bent  forward.  "  If  you  had  seen," 
he  began,  "  the  murderous  looks  the  old  squaw 
has  given  you  from  time  to  time,  I  think  you 
would  prefer  any  companion  to  the  risk  of 
facing  her  and  her  people  alone.  At  least 
she  is  friendly  with  me." 

A  startled  expression  crossed  the  Dutch- 
man's face.  He  picked  up  his  oars  again  and 
pulled  along  in  silence.  The  boat  ran  up  on 
the  beach. 

"  Have  your  arquebuse  ready,"  Giles  ad- 
vised, springing  to  land.  There  was  a  quiet 
all  about  them  that  seemed  ominous.  The 
waters  and  the  shore  were  usually  swarming 
with  Indians.  Their  approach  must  have  been 
observed,  and  yet  there  was  no  sign  of  life. 

Bloom  swung  the  keg  over  his  shoulder. 


226  IN   TUE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

He  held  his  weapon  in  one  hand  as  they 
walked  across  the  pebbles.  Within  the  woods 
a  few  yards,  altogether  out  of  sight  of  the 
Half  Moon  at  anchor,  was  the  spring  where 
they  obtained  drinking-water  from  day  to 
day.  They  entered  the  forest.  Giles  cast  one 
look  back  at  the  ship.  He  was  asking  him- 
self whether  he  should  ever  see  it  again.  All 
depended,  he  was  sure,  upon  the  amount  of 
gratitude  Winona  might  feel  for  him.  And, 
after  all,  he  had  done  very  little  for  her. 

"  Whatever  betide,  it  was  right  that  I 
came,"  he  reflected.  "  Bloom's  life  would  be 
worthless  without  me  :  that  much  I  know. 
For  the  rest,  I  can  but  place  the  result  in  the 
hands  of  the  Lord." 

The  tangled  underbrush  was  something  to 
which  the  Europeans  were  altogether  unaccus- 
tomed. They  pushed  through  it  with  stealthy 
tread. 

"  Do  you  hear  singing  ?  "  whispered  Bloom. 

"  Yes." 

They  came  out  upon  the  glade  where  the 
spring  was  situated.  It  was  a  wide,  open 
space,  and  it  was  filled  with  Indians.  In  a 
hollow  square  they  advanced  towards  a  sap- 
ling post  in  the  middle  of  the  clearing.  They 
were  daubed  red,  and  white,  and  black,  and 


TAKEN  CAPTIVE  227 

armed  with  clubs  and  bows.  One  of  their 
number,  the  chief's  boy  son,  carried  a  stone 
hatchet,  which  he  threw  towards  the  post. 
It  clove  and  clung  to  the  wood.  Even  these 
ignorant  strangers  realized  that  they  were 
witnessing  the  signal  for  a  combat,  or  a  defi- 
ance. Giles  swept  the  set  faces  with  an  ago- 
nized look.  Winona  was  nowhere  to  be  seen. 

"Fire  ! "  he  cried,  and  shot  his  arquebuse 
into  the  air.  The  report  was  followed  by 
Bloom's  musket. 

The  warriors  fell  back,  amazed  at  the 
strange  noise.  The  boy  thought  that  it 
would  be  received  on  shipboard  as  a  token 
of  danger.  He  knew  that  help  would  come 
to  them.  The  only  question  was  whether  it 
would  come  in  time. 

They  turned  to  try  flight  to  the  boat.  It 
would  mean  being  a  little  nearer  to  their 
friends.  The  Indians  were  too  many  for 
them,  while  their  better  acquaintance  with  the 
forest  stood  them  then  in  good  stead.  Before 
Giles  and  his  companion  had  taken  a  half 
dozen  strides  they  were  surrounded.  Lassoes 
were  thrown  around  their  necks.  They  were 
prisoners. 

They  were  dragged  along  over  the  roots  of 
trees,  over  rocks  and  moss,  through  thorns 


228  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

and  bogs,  for  what  seemed  hours  of  flight. 
Giles  understood  the  purpose,  —  to  bring  them 
beyond  the  reach  of  assistance.  His  sinking 
heart  admitted  that  there  was  every  proba- 
bility of  success.  How  could  Hudson  and 
his  men  trace  them  through  this  trackless 
forest  ? 

"  Ah1  is  lost !  "  gasped  Bloom,  when  they 
paused  at  length. 

"  Keep  up  hope,"  Giles  answered.  But  he 
had  little  hope  himself. 

A  bark  village  dotted  the  valley  upon  which 
they  had  descended.  The  captives  were  led 
to  a  wigwam  which  was  stationed  in  the  cen- 
tre, so  that  it  was  observable  from  every  point 
of  the  compass.  They  were  thrust  inside, 
falling  over,  half  dead  with  fatigue,  upon  the 
mats  with  which  the  shelter  was  lined. 

"  If  I  had  a  drop  of  water,"  said  Bloom, 
"  I  think  I  should  be  willing  to  die.  My 
thirst  is  greater  than  my  fear." 

"  And  your  thirst,  at  least,  can  be  allayed," 
replied  Giles.  For  the  mat  which  hung  across 
one  of  the  two  entrances  was  thrust  aside.  A 
dish  of  water  and  another  of  parched  ground 
corn  were  set  down  near  them  by  a  stooping 
figure,  dim  in  the  twilight.  In  another  in- 
stant they  were  left  alone  once  more. 


TAKEN  CAPTIVE  229 

"  Cheer  up,"  said  Giles.  "  You  see  they 
don't  mean  to  torture  us." 

He  had  been  thinking,  during  that  weary 
journey,  of  some  of  Captain  Smith's  stories, 
repeated  by  Juet,  regarding  the  Virginian 
natives,  and  of  other  dreadful  tales  brought 
home  by  the  French  fur-traders  from  Canada, 
to  which  he  had  often  listened  in  the  old  days 
in  Paris. 

Bloom  drank  heavily.  He  even  ate  a 
handful  of  the  strange  food.  He  announced 
that  it  heartened  him.  "  Come,  Valentine," 
he  added,  "  take  what  ease  you  can." 

Giles  felt  that  this  was  the  part  of  common 
sense.  He  made  a  good  meal.  Afterwards 
he  lay  down  beside  his  comrade,  alert  for  a 
move  from  their  captors. 

"  Whatever  they  do,"  he  mused,  "  will  be 
done  quickly,  for  fear  of  pursuit." 

And  some  one  again  thrust  aside  the  mat 
which  hung  at  the  door  of  the  tent. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

WHAT    HAPPENED    ON    HUDSON'S   RIVER 

THE  prisoners  sprang  to  their  feet.  A  war- 
rior, hideous  in  the  dashes  of  color  upon  his 
cheeks,  was  beckoning  to  them. 

"  Are  we  going  to  our  trial  ?  "  said  Bloom, 
turning  his  pale  face  towards  Giles. 

"  I  am  afraid  we  can  scarcely  expect  jus- 
tice. More  likely  it  will  be  swift  execution. 
Be  brave,  man.  If  God  wills  that  we  die,  we 
can  but  die  like  heroes." 

Giles's  poor  Dutch  put  a  barrier  between 
them  at  this  moment,  when  he  ardently  longed 
to  be  a  support  to  his  fellow-captive. 

They  stepped  outside  the  wigwam.  "  Did 
you  see  Winona  anywhere  ? "  Bloom  hur- 
riedly inquired. 

"  Not  in  the  attack.  But  naturally  there 
would  have  been  no  women  present  there.  I 
will  look  again  now.  She  is  our  sole  earthly 
reliance." 

They  were  led  to  the  council-house,  a  larger 
building  than  that  in  which  they  had  been 


WHAT  HAPPENED  ON  HUDSON'S  EIVER      231 

confined,  but  of  the  same  hasty  construction 
which  sufficed  for  these  nomadic  tribes.  A 
fire  of  piled  logs  burned  beneath  the  hole  in 
the  apex  of  the  great  tent,  through  which  one 
could  watch  the  tree-tops  and  the  stars.  By 
the  glow  it  could  be  seen  that  the  room  was 
half  filled  with  men,  lying  on  their  backs  or 
leaning  on  one  arm,  all  smoking  long  pipes 
and  surrounding  the  chief.  As  the  captives 
were  led  to  the  great  man's  presence,  Giles  cast 
a  last  glance  here  and  there,  seeking  Winona. 
Yes,  she  stood  back  of  her  husband,  gazing 
directly  at  him.  Her  eyes  were  blazing  with 
anger.  They  did  not  soften  when  they  met 
his  own. 

Now  he  surrendered  all  hope.  He  felt  that 
her  presence  was  intentional,  —  that  she  was 
to  be  their  accuser.  * 

The  chief  shot  a  penetrating  glance  at 
Bloom.  He  said  a  few  words  to  the  woman. 
She  stepped  forward,  feh1  into  an  attitude  of 
abject  humility  at  his  feet,  and  poured  forth 
a  torrent  of  words;  entreaty,  fury,  scorn, 
accusation,  seemed  mingled  in  their  flow. 

"  Do  you  think  she  is  pleading  for  our 
lives  ?  "  Bloom  murmured. 

(riles  shook  his  head.  He  could  not  tell 
him  that  he  imagined  she  was  asking  for  their 


232  IN  THE  BRAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

death.  When  Winona  ceased,  and  rose  to 
her  feet,  a  man  advanced,  then  another  and 
another.  The  young  chieftain  came  last. 
Each  spoke  rapidly  and  at  length.  Each 
waved  a  hand  towards  their  prisoners.  Each 
showed  in  his  wrathful  manner  that  what  he 
said  boded  them  no  good. 

Finally  the  chief  stood  up.  He  motioned 
to  several  bystanders,  who  came  forward. 
Giles  was  thrown  suddenly  upon  his  back. 
Some  one  stooped  at  his  feet,  binding  them  to- 
gether. Some  one  else  pressed  a  hand  upon 
his  forehead.  His  arms  were  tied  loosely  to- 
gether over  his  breast.  Bloom  watched  this 
performance  with  considerable  curiosity. 

"  Why  are  they  doing  that  to  you,  I  won- 
der," he  said,  "  and  not  to  me  ?  " 

As  he  spoke  the  chief's  son  stepped  back 
of  him.  He  bore  a  heavy  club.  He  had 
been  chosen  to  avenge  the  insult  that  this 
white  man  had  offered  to  his  father. 

Giles  gave  a  warning  cry.  It  was  too  late. 
The  little  brave  raised  the  murderous  weapon. 
With  a  lightning-like  swiftness  it  fell  and 
crashed  upon  Bloom's  uncovered  head.  He 
dropped  lifeless  to  the  floor. 

Giles  waited  in  momentary  expectation,  of 
the  same  fate.  He  said  an  earnest  prayer. 


WHAT  HAPPENED  ON  HUDSON'S  RIVER     233 

He  thought  of  Jan,  of  Meg,  and  of  Annemie. 
He  heard  loud  discussion  beside  him  and 
looked  up.  A  group  surrounded  the  chief, 
Winona  among  them.  As  he  guessed,  they 
were  disputing  his  future,  and  whether  it 
should  be  life  or  death.  A  respite  was  the 
utmost  that  the  woman  could  gain.  He  was 
seized  by  his  hands  and  feet  and  carried  back 
to  the  wigwam.  There  he  was  thrown  upon 
the  ground  and  left  alone  again. 

Hours  dragged  by,  and  the  sounds  outside 
all  died  away.  The  fire  from  the  council- 
house,  which  Giles  watched  dully  through  the 
one  clear  opening  to  his  hut,  burned  into 
ashes,  and  it  was  dark.  He  began  cautiously 
to  work  his  hands  up  and  down  in  their  soft 
leather  thongs.  Could  he  free  himself  ?  And 
if  he  could,  would  it  be  of  any  avail  ?  The 
prison  was  closely  watched ;  the  woods  were 
well  known  to  his  captors,  and  all  unknown  to 
him. 

The  moon  rose,  and  a  long,  pale  ray  fell 
athwart  the  entrance  to  the  tent  to  the  spot 
where  Giles  was  lying.  He  thought,  as  it 
crept  towards  him,  that  he  never  should  see 
the  moon  rise  again :  this,  he  firmly  believed, 
was  his  last  night  on  earth.  Now  a  shadow 
crossed  the  streak  of  light.  A  dark  form 


234  IN  THE  BRAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

glided  noiselessly  into  the  wigwam.  A  knife 
glittered  in  one  outstretched  hand.  Giles 
shut  his  eyes,  breathing  a  petition  that  the 
end  might  be  sure  and  speedy,  and  that  he 
might  show  no  cowardice.  He  heard  the 
light  step  glide  over  the  mats  to  his  side. 
He  felt  the  pause.  The  gaze  bent  upon  him 
seemed  to  burn  through  his  closed  eyelids. 
The  cold  touch  of  the  knife  fell  against  his 
folded  hands  where  they  were  tied  upon  his 
breast.  He  thought  it  was  directed  towards 
his  heart.  He  waited,  in  the  perfect  still- 
ness, for  the  fatal  stroke. 

There  was  a  slashing  movement.  The 
bands  about  his  wrists  were  severed.  Giles's 
eyes  flew  open.  The  figure  was  kneeling  by 
his  feet.  The  thongs  there,  too,  were  cut. 

It  was  Winona.  In  her  black  hair,  gath- 
ered at  her  neck,  there  were  copper  orna- 
ments that  glittered  in  the  moonlight.  She 
wore  a  long  skin  cloak,  richly  embroidered 
in  quills  and  fantastic  color  designs.  Her 
face  was  strained,  as  if  listening  for  a  sound. 
She  touched  her  lip  lightly  with  one  finger, 
and  then  held  it  up  before  her  in  a  warning 
attitude.  Giles  could  interpret  the  gesture 
to  mean  "  Caution  !  " 

He  sprang  upright.     She  led  the  way,  he 


WHAT  HAPPENED  ON  HUDSON'S  EIVEJi     235 

creeping  after  her.  The  irregular  lines  of 
wigwams  were  bathed  in  the  moonlight.  Be- 
fore his  prison  lay  an  Indian  guard.  He 
breathed  heavily  as  they  stepped  timidly  past 
him.  Giles  glanced  questioningly  at  the  wo- 
man, wondering  if,  as  seemed  probable,  she 
had  drugged  the  watcher.  She  flew  like  a 
bird  across  the  open  space.  He  followed 
more  clumsily,  yet  with  the  prudent  secrecy 
learned  in  his  adventurous  boyhood.  They 
reached  the  quiet  woods  in  safety.  The 
moonlight  filtered  through  the  tree-tops,  show- 
ing them  dimly  the  path  to  go.  Winona 
glided  on  in  advance,  a  shadow  guide.  She 
knew  their  course  where  Giles  saw  nothing 
to  mark  it.  She  pushed  between  the  tree- 
trunks,  and  over  rotting  logs.  She  threaded 
her  path  through  the  stifling  underbrush, 
holding  back  the  trailing  vines  that  he  might 
follow  her.  They  went  on  thus  for  hours. 
Gray  dawn  was  creeping  over  the  blackness 
in  the  eastern  sky  when  Winona  reached 
back,  caught  Giles  by  the  hand,  and  showed 
him  a  little  stream,  over  which  they  made  a 
flying  leap  together.  She  pulled  him  after 
her  down  a  sharp  incline.  They  wound  their 
course  through  the  trees. 

The  beach  lay  before   them.     The  Half 


236       „    IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

Moon  swung  at  anchor  out  in  the  river. 
Giles  stifled  an  exclamation :  here  was  safety 
once  more.  Winona  pointed  towards  the 
boat  he  and  poor  Bloom  had  left  there  ten 
hours  before. 

Then  she  turned  back  to  the  woods.  Her 
self-imposed  duty  was  performed.  He  was 
prepared  with  the  means  of  escape  to  his 
friends.  Giles  felt  at  his  wits'  end  for  a  way 
of  expressing  his  gratitude,  when  they  had 
not  a  word  in  common.  He  ran  after  her,  fell 
on  one  knee,  and,  grasping  the  border  of  her 
gay,  embroidered  cloak,  raised  it  to  his  lips. 
The  act  of  homage  was  natural  to  one  reared 
in  the  courtly  days  of  Elizabeth,  and  in  the 
Paris  of  Henry  of  Navarre :  it  was  a  revela- 
tion to  the  savage  woman,  used  to  the  treat- 
ment accorded  a  squaw,  —  that  is,  all  the 
cruelty  and  the  drudgery  which  a  human  be- 
ing could  undergo.  She  looked  down  upon 
the  boy  with  a  lovely  expression  of  motherly 
tenderness  on  her  withered,  ugly  face.  She 
stooped  over  Giles's  bent  head  and  flung 
something  about  his  neck.  When  he  stood 
up  and  looked  about  him,  she  had  vanished. 

He  took  her  gift  in  one  hand  to  examine 
it.  It  was  a  bit  of  soft  stone  pierced  to  hang 
on  a  strip  of  leather  like  a  cord,  and  carved 


WHAT  HAPPENED  ON  HUDSON'S  RIVER     237 

in  the  rude  semblance  of  a  tortoise.  Although 
Giles  could  not  guess  its  full  significance,  — 
that  it  was  the  emblem  of  Winona's  people, 
her  totem,  —  he  foresaw  its  importance  in 
future  intercourse  with  the  Indians  of  her 
own  clan.  He  appreciated  that  the  tremen- 
dous service  of  his  escape  was  crowned  by 
this  act. 

He  pushed  off  in  the  boat,  rowing  rapidly 
to  the  Half  Moon's  side.  He  expected,  of 
course,  the  watch.  He  had  not  thought  the 
first  person  he  should  see  would  be  Jan,  an- 
swering his  call,  and  peering  down  at  him 
doubtfully  from  the  deck. 

"  It  seems  too  good  to  be  true,"  he  cried, 
when  he  held  his  friend  by  both  hands,  and 
was  gazing  rapturously  into  his  face.  "I 
have  lurked  about  here  all  night,  watching 
the  shore,  and  wondering  what  had  become 
of  you.  Where  is  Bloom  ?  " 

Giles  was  soon  surrounded  by  a  group  of 
men  equally  curious  to  hear  his  own  adven- 
tures and  to  learn  their  comrade's  fate.  He 
saw  their  dissatisfaction.  The  crew  generally 
would  have  cared  very  little  had  he  never  re- 
turned to  the  ship.  Bloom,  on  the  contrary, 
had  been  a  leader  among  them.  Their  laments 
for  him  were  not  only  loud  but  also  indignant. 


238  IN   THti  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

"  They  think  I  could  have  saved  his  life  as 
well  as  my  own,"  said  Giles  to  Jan. 

The  latter  could  not  deny  that  he  had  lis- 
tened to  murmurs  to  that  effect.  When  the 
shots  were  heard  from  the  ship,  a  party  had 
been  sent  out  by  Hudson.  They  made  a 
thorough  search  for  the  two,  without  avail, 
and  were  obliged  to  return  to  the  Half  Moon, 
leaving  the  boat  on  a  slender  chance  of  an 
escape  which  might  require  it  to  follow  them. 
There  had  been  a  sorrowful  night  between 
Giles's  disappearance  and  his  return. 

Nothing  more  was  seen  of  the  Algonquins. 
The  voyagers  weighed  anchor  and  sailed  on 
up  the  river.  From  time  to  time,  as  they 
passed  the  banks  dropping  into  the  water,  a 
canoe  shot  out  from  the  forest  ridges,  making 
its  way  to  the  vessel.  Its  occupants  were 
always  perplexed  and  excited  by  the  white 
men's  peculiar  dress,  and  tongue,  and  man- 
ners. They  exchanged  a  few  trifling  gifts, 
but  did  not  stop  to  parley  with  such  visitors. 
Hudson  was  too  feverishly  anxious  to  pursue 
his  investigations:  his  men  saw  that  their 
welfare  was  bound  up  with  his.  They  were 
all  consumed  by  the  one  desire  to  hasten  on 
and  learn  the  worst  —  or  best. 

Not  many  miles  had  been  passed  before 


WHAT  HAPPENED  ON  HUDSON' S  RIVER     239 

they  came  in  upon  what  looked  like  a  lake. 
Hudson's  eyes  glowed.  His  cheeks  flushed 
with  excitement.  He  could  not  restrain  the 
quiver  in  his  tone. 

"  I  believe  we  are  on  the  right  road,  Juet," 
he  said  to  his  mate. 

"  It  looks  like  it,"  Juet  answered  quietly. 

Truly  it  did,  for  a  time.  But  the  river 
narrowed  again,  as  it  had  widened.  They 
sailed  between  its  evergreen  banks,  day  by 
day,  looking,  with  hopes  that  died  hard,  for 
other  signs  that  this  was  Hudson's  arm  of  the 
sea,  and  not  a  river  shallower  as  they  as- 
cended it. 

"The  anchor  is  going  overboard,"  Giles 
exclaimed,  springing  up  at  the  well-known 
rattle  of  the  chain.  "  What  can  be  the  rea- 
son ?  Do  you  suppose  that  we  are  to  make 
land  explorations  ?  " 

"  Perhaps,  in  one  of  the  boats,"  suggested 
Jan.  "  If  so,  I  mean  to  apply  for  a  place." 

"  And  I." 

"Oh,  no,  Giles.  Stay  on  the  ship  this 
time ! " 

Giles  gave  a  derisive  laugh  at  the  notion. 
He  understood  Jan's  uneasiness  concerning 
his  treatment  from  the  men.  He  had  no  in- 
tention of  giving  in  to  it,  to  this  extent. 


240  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

He  found  that  the  captain  had  issued 
orders  for  a  boat's  crew  to  start  at  once  upon 
a  further  search.  The  expedition  would  be 
absent  several  days, — "  as  long  as  necessary," 
said  Hudson,  looking  depressed  and  fretted. 
He  was  selecting  the  men.  His  glance  fell 
upon  Giles. 

"  And  Valentine,"  he  added. 

Jan  pushed  forward.  "May  I  be  of  the 
party,  captain  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  No,  lad,  there  is  no  room  for  more." 

Jan  opened  his  mouth  to  protest.  Giles 
dragged  him  away. 

"  What  accusation  can  you  bring  ? "  he 
demanded.  "You  have  nothing  at  all  ex- 
cept surmises,  that  no  one  would  listen  to. 
We  can't  harass  the  captain.  He  looks  as 
if  he  were  taking  a  last  desperate  chance." 

For  his  part,  Giles  felt  quite  capable  of 
looking  after  himself.  He  promised  Jan  to 
do  nothing  foolhardy,  nor  ever  to  trust  him- 
self alone  with  any  one  or  two  of  the  others, 
for  there  was  likely  to  be  safety  in  numbers. 
Nor  would  his  enemies  forget  that  they  must 
report  to  the  captain  at  the  end  of  the  cruise. 

They  bade  each  other  good-by,  these  two 
friends,  with  more  show  of  feeling  than  was 
usual  between  them.  Giles  called  back  cheery 


WHAT  HAPPENED  ON  HUDSON'S  RIVER     241 

last  words.     Jan  watched  the  bark  wistfully 
out  of  sight. 

It  was  a  week  later  that  he  slid  down  from 
his  perch  at  the  lookout,  and  saluted  Henry 
Hudson. 

"  The  boat,  sir  !  "  he  said. 

"  Art  sure  ?  "  Hudson's  worn  face  lighted. 
The  old  look,  as  if  in  expectation  of  good 
news,  came  into  his  eyes.  "  I  have  thought 
so  oft  that  I  saw  it,  and  have  been  sore  de- 
ceived." 

Jan  was  sure  that  no  one  had  watched  for 
that  boat  with  such  anxious  gaze  as  his. 
"  They  are  our  men,  sir,"  he  said  positively. 

Hudson  stood  buried  in  reverie.  He  tugged 
at  his  beard,  his  abstracted  sight  fastened 
upon  the  deck.  Jan  cast  a  sympathetic  glance 
at  him,  and  climbed  aloft  again.  The  com- 
mander was  startled  from  his  reflections  by  a 
sharp  cry. 

"  What  is  't,  Verrooy  ?  "  he  called. 

Again  Jan  dropped  down  the  mast,  and 
made  his  way  to  Hudson's  side.  He  forgot 
to  remove  his  cap.  He  buried  his  face  in 
his  hands. 

"  They  are  our  men  ?  "  exclaimed  Hudson. 

"  They  are  our  men,  sir,  and  they  are  but 
four." 


242  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

Five  had  gone  out  from  the  Half  Moon. 

The  boat  neared  the  ship.  Its  crew  crowded 
to  the  bow  to  see  the  approach,  Jan  foremost. 
His  worst  fears  were  fulfilled.  Giles  was  not 
with  the  rest.  To  do  Hudson  justice,  his  first 
query,  haUooed  across  the  water,  was  not  of 
what  the  explorers  had  found.  He  set  aside 
his  fondest  ambition,  and  he  asked :  — 

"  Where  is  young  Valentine  ?  " 

It  was  one  of  the  men  who  inquired, 
"What  luck,  lads?" 

The  coxswain  answered  the  double  question 
at  once.  He  looked  over  his  shoulder  as  they 
grazed  the  ship's  side,  and  said :  — 

"  We  found  shallower  water  and  a  nar- 
rower stream.  The  English  boy  wandered 
away  from  us  in  the  forest.  We  searched, 
but  could  find  no  trace  of  him." 


CHAPTER  XXIII 
WINONA'S  TOTEM 

MEANWHILE  what  had  happened  to  Giles  ? 

He  made  the  best  of  the  others'  surly  com- 
panionship. He  thoroughly  enjoyed  the  trip's 
surprises  and  adventures  day  after  day.  They 
rowed  by  turn  during  the  shortening  hours 
of  light.  At  night  they  camped  upon  the 
shore,  and  ate  and  slept  about  the  fire  with 
one  of  their  number  mounted  guard. 

The  men  kept  together,  appearing  to  scorn 
him  as  an  outsider  thrust  upon  them.  Often 
they  tried  to  provoke  a  quarrel  by  taunts  in 
regard  to  the  death  of  Bloom.  Much  of  their 
talk  Giles  did  not  understand ;  much  more  of 
it  he  pretended  not  to  hear ;  or  it  was  always 
a  safe  method  of  averting  an  outbreak  to 
shake  his  head,  and  ask  some  stupid  question 
wide  of  the  mark,  taking  refuge  in  his  noto- 
riously bad  Dutch.  He  restrained  the  anger 
it  would  have  been  childish  to  show  when 
so  completely  in  the  power  of  his  enemies. 
Their  undisguised  malice  towards  him  had 


244  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

this  good  effect,  that  it  kept  Jan's  warnings 
before  his  mind. 

Yet  the  boy  found  it  a  pleasant  life.  The 
country  was  most  beautiful.  Now  and  then 
a  tree  or  a  bush  blazed  out  in  early  autumn 
coloring.  A  long  range  of  mountains  against 
the  western  sky  had  come,  from  a  dim  out- 
line, as  they  ascended  the  stream,  to  assume 
boldly  impressive  forms.  Looking  back  at 
them,  the  lower  hills  bore  a  fantastic  resem- 
blance to  a  giant  lying  at  rest,  his  knees 
drawn  up,  the  profile  of  his  face  showing 
sharply  against  the  intense  blue  of  the  Amer- 
ican heavens.  Giles  pointed  out  this  Old 
Man  of  the  Mountains  to  his  companions. 
They  grunted  sulkily  at  his  amusement. 
None  of  them  knew  that  the  Indians  in  the 
region  of  the  Kaatskills — for  so  the  Dutch 
afterwards  called  these  hills  —  had  already 
noticed  and  named  this  singular  formation. 

Giles  wandered  about  by  himself,  at  night 
and  at  morning,  when  the  boat  was  beached, 
although  he  never  strayed  far  from  his  com- 
rades. These  were  delightful  strolls,  rich  in 
treasure  trove;  new  birds  and  beasts  and 
plants  surrounded  bun.  He  seldom  encoun- 
tered a  native ;  but  if  he  did,  he  found  that 
the  owner  of  the  soil  was  more  alarmed  than 


WINONA'S  TOTEM  245 

the  intruder.  He  grew  to  love  this  fair,  wild 
land  with  a  devotion  which  was  far  beyond 
what  his  longing  had  been  to  visit  it  when 
he  had  little  idea  what  it  held.  He  built 
many  air-castles  in  that  time  of  quiet  roam- 
ing along  the  banks  of  the  river,  and  all  their 
foundations  were  laid  in  America. 

They  came  to  tributaries  which  the  men 
wished  to  explore.  Hessel,  the  man  in  com- 
mand of  the  expedition,  refused  to  aUow  this, 
saying  very  justly  that  it  was  growing  late  in 
the  season,  Hudson  awaited  them  impatiently, 
and  they  must  keep  strictly  to  their  errand,  — 
that  of  learning  the  capacity  of  the  stream 
along  which  they  came. 

"  It  is  easy  to  see  the  end,"  one  of  the  others 
remarked  finally,  with  an  evil  grin.  "  It  will 
not  require  much  more  breaking  of  our  backs 
at  the  oar  to  return  with  the  tidings  that  this 
is  no  royal  road  to  Asia." 

"  That  is  true,"  answered  Hessel  from  his 
seat  at  the  rudder.  "I  am  beginning  to 
think  we  might  better  turn  about.  The  river 
—  for  river  it  assuredly  is  —  grows  less  navi- 
gable for  an  ocean  ship.  It  is  useless  to  hope 
for  a  change." 

He  pointed  the  boat  towards  an  island  of 
no  great  extent  lying  in  the  stream.  "  We 


246  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

might  seek  a  night's  lodging  here,"  he  an- 
nounced. 

They  made  their  preparations  for  a  meal, 
Giles  roving  about  in  dreary  thought  of  what 
their  message  would  mean  to  Henry  Hudson. 
One  of  the  men  took  his  arquebuse  and  went 
away  into  the  woods  in  quest  of  game.  An- 
other was  cleaning  some  fish,  for  which  they 
cast  a  line  from  the  boat.  To  Giles's  sur- 
prise, when  he  came  to  notice  it,  he  observed 
that  the  sun  was  an  hour  high.  They  did  not 
usually  encamp  before  twilight.  He  asked 
permission  of  Hessel  to  walk  along  the  island 
and  look  around  him.  The  man  nodded,  in 
his  boorish  fashion,  saying  nothing.  Giles 
set  out  in  the  opposite  direction  from  the 
sportsman. 

He  stopped  to  examine  so  much  that  was 
curious  or  delightful,  he  gathered  so  many 
flowers  and  experimented  upon  so  many  fruits 
and  berries,  that  it  was  only  when  these  last 
failed  to  satisfy  a  hearty  appetite,  increased 
by  a  day  of  hard  work  in  the  open  air,  that 
he  realized  how  long  he  had  been  away  from 
the  others. 

He  had  gone,  unconsciously,  inland.  It 
was  only  a  few  minutes'  walk  to  the  boat 
upon  the  beach.  He  sought  the  river  hur- 


WINONA'S   TOTEM  247 

riedly,  incited  not  at  all  by  alarm,  but  by  the 
pangs  of  hunger.  He  came  out  upon  the 
pebbly  shore  by  the  blasted  oak  which  he 
had  noticed  when  he  left  the  water,  and  had 
selected  for  a  landmark. 

The  boat  was  gone. 

Giles  stood,  struck  motionless  with  aston- 
ishment, and  looked  in  every  direction.  He 
could  not  be  mistaken  in  the  place.  Here 
was  the  old  tree ;  there  the  seat  that  its  roots 
made,  and  the  flat  rock  like  a  footstool.  Not 
ten  yards  away  the  boat  had  been  drawn 
upon  the  strand.  Yes,  —  he  darted  forward, 
—  there  were  the  scales  and  the  heads  of  the 
fish  Tenbroeck  had  been  preparing  for  their 
supper.  He  was  left  alone. 

He  strained  his  eyes  till  the  eyeballs  ached. 
Away  to  the  southward,  perhaps  a  mile  from 
him,  —  not  more,  —  was  the  image  of  a  boat. 
As  he  became  accustomed  to  the  dim  light,  he 
saw  the  regular  rise  and  fall  of  flashing  oars. 
They  were  going  to  the  Half  Moon.  It  was 
no  error,  no  cheat  of  apprehension  :  that  was 
the  boat,  those  were  his  comrades,  and  they 
had  willfully  deserted  him. 
,  That  night  in  the  wilderness,  far  from  his 
fellows,  was  one  of  the  most  memorable  in 
Giles's  history.  Yet  nothing  happened  while 


248        IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

he  sat,  hungry  and  stiff  with  fatigue,  over 
the  fire  he  made,  and  heard  the  shrill  cry  of 
a  wolf  in  the  hills  across  the  river,  or  the 
light  tread  of  a  wildcat  on  the  island,  attracted 
by  the  glow  and  warmth,  peeping  out  at  the 
boy  from  among  the  trees. 

At  daybreak  Giles's  ear  caught  another 
sound  that  brought  him  to  his  feet,  musket 
in  hand.  It  was  the  harsh  clatter  of  a  boat 
drawn  across  the  pebbles.  Had  the  crew 
repented?  Were  they  returned  for  him? 
Or,  which  was  more  probable,  had  they  come 
back  with  the  reflection  that  dead  men  are 
the  only  ones  who  tell  no  tales?  Had  they 
become  convinced  that  it  was  safer  to  take 
his  life  at  once  than  leave  him  even  thus,  — 
a  prisoner  on  a  little  island,  miles  away  from 
Jan,  Hudson,  and  Juet,  his  three  friends  in 
this  whole  western  world? 

That  thought  recalled  to  his  mind  one 
other  friend,  —  Winona.  He  pulled  mechan- 
ically at  the  charm  about  his  neck.  He  was 
holding  it  in  his  palm  as  he  advanced  in  the 
direction  of  that  significant  noise.  A  bark 
canoe  swung  to  and  fro  on  the  water.  An 
Indian  was  stepping  jauntily  ashore.  He  fell 
back,  uttering  a  low  cry  at  the  sight  of  the 
pale-faced  stranger. 


WINONA'S  TOTEM  249 

An  inspiration  came  to  Giles.  He  sprang 
forward  to  meet  the  man,  holding  out  the 
stone.  The  native's  glance  fell  on  it.  He 
gave  another  scream. 

"  Winona,"  said  Giles. 

He  pointed  down  the  river.  He  gesticu- 
lated rapidly,  describing  the  squaw  in  her 
dress  and  walk.  The  Indian  followed  his 
movements  with  wide-eyed  alertness. 

When  Giles's  wordless  story  was  told,  it 
was  the  other's  turn.  He  took  a  step  for- 
ward, falling  on  his  face  before  the  boy. 
Then  he  raised  himself  to  his  proud,  full 
stature,  saying  some  sentences  at  which  Giles 
shook  his  head.  The  man  resorted  once  more 
to  motions.  He  asked  if  Winona's  charge 
were  hungry,  and  was  answered  decidedly 
in  pantomime.  He  reached  into  his  canoe, 
brought  out  a  supply  of  jerked  meat  and  of 
ripe  berries,  and  laid  all  on  the  flat  rock  at 
their  feet.  Giles  ate  heartily,  delighted  that 
this  part  of  his  need  could  be  so  readily  sup- 
plied. '  Yet  he  had  been  in  no  present  danger 
of  starvation  if  left  to  himself.  He  was  armed, 
and  the  wild  things  of  water  and  wood  were 
not  so  wonted  to  the  fear  of  capture  as  to 
be  difficult  to  lure.  The  imperative  demand 
was  for  some  method  of  arriving  at  the  Half 


250  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

Moon  before  she  should  sail  away.  How 
could  he  make  this  man  understand  his  want, 
or  bring  him  to  supply  it? 

In  the  night  watches  he  had  reflected  rue- 
fully upon  his  love  for  the  wilderness,  when 
the  likelihood  was  that  the  home  he  had 
wished  for  should  be  his  for  the  remainder 
of  his  life.  A  solitary  existence,  thousands 
of  leagues  from  his  kindred,  with  not  one 
white  face  to  look  into  his  own,  was  no  ful- 
fillment of  his  desire.  He  grew  wild  with 
excitement  as  he  thought  now  what  false- 
hood of  his  death  the  returning  party  might 
tell ;  of  Hudson's  sympathy  with  Jan's  futile 
grief;  of  the  homeward  voyage  to  France; 
of  Meg,  of  Annemie. 

He  ran  to  the  canoe  and  waved  his  hand 
to  the  south.  He  touched  his  breast  and  the 
boat's  bow,  and  stretched  out  his  hand  again. 
The  man  indicated  that  he  understood.  Giles 
doubted,  for  the  Indian  took  a  place,  too,  in 
the  little  craft,  after  settling  him  carefully  in 
it.  Perhaps  it  was  better  so,  although  toe  had 
small  notion  how  it  would  all  end,  while  they 
sped  on  over  the  calm  expanse  of  the  river. 
Certainly  he  could  not  have  managed  the 
canoe  himself.  He  marveled  at  the  owner's 
skill. 


WINONA'S  TOTEM  251 

They  traveled  throughout  the  day,  keeping 
to  the  south.  At  nightfall  they  camped  upon 
the  shore  in  silent  sociability.  "  If  Jan  could 
only  see  me  now  !  "  thought  Giles. 

When  he  awakened,  another  savage  had 
joined  them.  His  first  acquaintance  motioned 
for  a  sight  of  the  mystic  stone.  He  was  given 
into  the  care  of  the  new-comer,  who  showed 
the  same  awe  for  him  when  he  had  witnessed 
what  he  wore  around  his  neck.  The  follow- 
ing morning  the  like  ceremony  was  gone 
through  with  by  another  Indian.  In  each 
case  his  former  guide  left  him  to  the  last 
man,  and  went  back  up  the  river  alone. 
Giles  was  growing  faint  with  uncertainty  as 
he  neared  the  familiar  portion  of  the  stream 
where  he  had  quitted  the  Half  Moon.  Sup- 
pose he  were  too  late  ?  He  had  come  across 
no  trace  of  the  ship's  boat.  Suppose  Hudson 
had  already  weighed  anchor  and  was  gone  ? 

He  sat  bent  forward  in  the  tottlish  bark, 
his  eyes  riveted  upon  the  windings  of  the 
river.  A  shout  broke  from  his  lips.  His 
conductor  looked  around  inquisitively.  Giles 
was  waving  his  cap  above  his  head.  He  had 
spied  the  sail  of  the  Half  Moon  ! 

A  little  later  Hessel,  walking  up  and  down 
the  deck,  stared  aghast  at  the  head  of  the 


252  J^V   THE  BRAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

young  Englishman  suddenly  appearing  over 
the  side ! 

"  There 's  a  rope  dangling,"  said  the  boy 
coolly,  pulling  himself  to  a  sitting  posture; 
"  but  I  want  help  in  drawing  my  guide 
aboard.  How  are  you,  officer?  You  see  I 
followed  you." 

Even  Jan  did  not  hear  the  full  tale  of  that 
week's  occurrences  until  after  they  had  left 
the  ship.  Giles  received  silently  the  captain's 
rebuke  for  carelessness  in  wandering  away 
from  the  others.  He  treated  those  who  de- 
serted him  precisely  as  usual,  and  only  ap- 
peared to  be  desirous  to  reward  his  faithful 
Indian,  by  whom  he  sent  many  little  gifts  to 
the  others  who  had  assisted  his  flight.  He 
was  none  too  soon  in  reaching  the  vessel. 
Hudson  was  thoroughly  disheartened.  All  he 
asked  now  was  to  get  to  port  before  winter. 

The  homeward  journey  was  sad.  There 
were  many  discussions  of  their  route  and  of 
other  passages. 

"  I  shall  not  give  up  yet,"  said  the  captain, 
"  for  there  must  be  at  all  events  a  way  to  the 
extreme  northwest.  Some  day  I  shall  seek 
that  out." 

"  And  then  will  you  send  for  us  ? "  de- 
manded Jan. 


WINONA'S  TOTEM  253 

"  I  will  bear  thee  in  mind,  my  lad.  Mine 
own  boy  has  the  promise  of  sailing  with  his 
father  in  another  twelvemonth  or  so.  I  must 
not  carry  all  young  heads,  though  I  grant 
thee  they  have  gone  well  wi'  me  this  voyage." 

The  youths  were  obliged  to  place  what 
faith  they  could  in  this  partial  promise.  On 
their  way  up  the  Channel  they  put  in  at  Dart- 
mouth. Here,  to  the  consternation  of  them 
all,  the  vessel  was  seized  by  the  authorities. 
The  act  was  justified  solely  by  the  jealousy 
the  English  felt  for  the  Dutch.  They  were 
determined  to  keep  the  service  of  so  eminent 
a  mariner  from  their  neighbors.  They  finally 
sent  on  the  Half  Moon  to  Amsterdam,  but 
forbade  Hudson  to  accompany  her. 

"  You  will  not  forget  us,  sir  ? "  begged 
Giles  at  their  parting. 

"  Ay,  mayhap  we  shall  sail  together  again. 
Such  loyalty  to  a  disappointed  old  seaman 
should  surely  be  recompensed." 

And  that  was  the  most  he  would  say. 

The  first  hour  at  home  —  at  the  nearest  ap- 
proach to  a  home  these  boys  had  known  in 
three  years*  time  —  was  the  reward  for  what- 
ever ill  they  had  suffered  in  their  journey. 
Meg  sprang  into  her  brother's  arms.  Mme. 
Chapelain  was  sweet  and  good  as  ever.  Her 


254  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

husband  and  the  old  nurse  were  profuse  in 
wondering  admiration  over  all  they  had  en- 
dured and  seen.  Giles  told  Annemie  that  he 
could  not  tell  whether  she  were  glad  to  see 
him  or  not.  "  Though  you  welcomed  Jan 
right  heartily,"  he  added. 

Annemie  drooped  her  pretty  head  over  her 
embroidery  frame,  shaking  away  her  curls  to 
steal  a  modest  glance  at  him. 

"  You  are  so  changed,"  she  expostulated. 
"  You  have  grown  so  tall  and  manly,  and  not 
like  the  boy  I  used  to  know.  I  feel  it  afresh 
each  time  I  see  you  after  a  season  of  absence. 
I  have  to  begin  all  over  again  in  the  acquaint- 
ance." 

Giles  stared  reflectively  at  his  figure  in  the 
mirror  opposite  to  him.  There  was  indeed  a 
difference  there  from  the  little  fellow  who 
long  ago  used  to  live  at  the  Grange  near 
Richmond.  He  regarded  his  broad  shoul- 
ders, his  rich  wavy  hair,  his  bright  face 
touched  with  the  shade  of  manhood,  his  stal- 
wart form. 

"  Jan  is  of  another  sort,"  he  said  ;  "  slight, 
where  I  am  big-framed,  and  supple  and  light, 
where  I,  maybe,  am  clumsy.  But  he,  too, 
has  changed,  Annemie." 

"  Ah,  but  Jan,  man  or  boy,  is  my  brother." 


WINONA'S   TOTEM  255 

"  Annemie," —  he  wheeled  about  from  his 
contemplation  of  the  glass,  —  "  did  you  like 
the  boy  Giles  better?" 

Her  head  fell  still  lower  over  the  work  from 
which  her  fingers  dropped.  Her  voice  sank 
almost  to  a  whisper. 

"  On  the  contrary,"  she  said,  "  I  think  J 
prefer  the  man." 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

THE    VICTIM    OF   RAVAILLAC 

"  You  have  come  to  Paris  at  a  gala  time," 
said  Mme.  Chapelain  to  the  returned  sailors. 
"  All  is  expectation  of  the  coronation  of  Marie 
upon  the  13th  of  May." 

"  Why  is  she  to  be  crowned  ?  "  demanded 
her  Dutch  nephew  bluntly.  "  I  can't  under- 
stand the  ceremony." 

His  uncle  smiled  shrewdly.  "  Others  than 
you  are  puzzled.  By  most  persons  it  is 
deemed  the  weak  fancy  of  a  vain  woman. 
Yet  others  think  she  has  the  right  of  it.  The 
king  was  divorced  to  marry  her.  It  is  not 
beyond  imagination  that  he  should  try  to  set 
her  aside  in  her  turn.  She  has  the  excuse 
now  that  she  is  to  act  as  regent  during 
Henry's  expedition  against  Cleves.  At  all 
events  his  Majesty  makes  no  secret  of  his  dis- 
like to  the  whole  affair." 
.  Jan  was  soon  to  witness  this  dislike.  On 
the  following  day  he  was  sent  by  his  uncle 
with  some  unimportant  message  to  the  arsenal 


THE  VICTIM  OF  RAVAILLAC  257 

to  the  great  Sully  himself.  M.  Chapelain 
had  devised  the  errand  ;  he  urged  his  relative 
to  give  the  master-general  of  the  ordnance  a 
hint  of  his  recent  voyage  and  the  wonders  he 
had  seen. 

"  Such  tales  never  do  any  mischief,"  was 
his  comment.  "  Sometimes  they  do  good. 
Of  all  men,  Sully  is  in  the  way  to  advance 
you  in  your  career  should  he  take  an  interest 
in  you.  Of  course  before  this  we  could  not 
presume  to  interfere  with  Prince  Maurice's 
plans  for  you.  But  now  that  you  have  once 
sailed  under  the  flag  of  Holland,  as  he  ar- 
ranged, I  see  no  reason  why  France  should 
not  send  you  both  out  to  some  lucrative  post 
in  Acadia." 

Jan  secretly  thought  that  Giles  and  he 
would  prefer  explorations  with  poor,  unfor- 
tunate Hudson,  to  money-making  under  some 
dissolute  noble  at  a  trading-post.  However, 
he  said  nothing,  and  dutifully  repaired  to  the 
arsenal. 

After  the  trumped-up  business  was  ar- 
ranged, he  lingered  to  answer  the  questions 
asked  in  regard  to  the  discoveries  made  in 
America.  A  door  opened  behind  them.  A 
gentleman  entered  unannounced.  Sully  sprang 
up,  and,  after  a  deep  obeisance,  would  have 


258  IN  THE  BRAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

dragged  forward  a  low  chair  —  one  made  ex- 
pressly for  this  visitor  —  had  not  Jan  been  too 
quick  for  him.  He  pulled  the  seat  into  place 
and  respectfully  moved  back.  He  had  often 
seen  that  face  in  the  streets  of  Paris  since  the 
night  when  he  first  encountered  it,  masked,  in 
the  forest  of  D'Entrague.  The  new-comer  was 
Henry  of  Navarre. 

The  monarch  nodded  easily  to  both.  He 
paid  no  heed  to  the  young  fellow.  He  evi- 
dently thought  him  a  secretary.  He  burst  at 
once  into  his  grievance. 

"  Oh,  my  friend,"  he  said,  tapping  his 
spectacle  -  case  with  his  finger  tip,  "  I  hate 
this  coronation  !  I  cannot  put  my  feeling 
into  words,  and  yet  my  heart  foretells  some 
disaster." 

He  started  up  and  clapped  his  hands 
against  his  sides.  "  I  shall  die  in  this  town  ! 
I  shall  never  leave  it.  They  will  kill  me,  for 
they  have  no  remedy  save  my  death.  That 
coronation  will  be  the  cause  !  " 

"  Sire,  what  do  you  mean  ?  "  demanded 
Sully. 

In  his  surprise  he,  too,  had  forgotten  Jan. 
The  boy  did  not  know  what  to  do.  It  seemed 
the  height  of  insolence  to  move  at  such  a  mo- 
ment, and  call  attention  to  himself.  He  stood 


THE  VICTIM  OF  EAVAILLAC  259 

still  in  his  corner.  He  could  not  avoid  hear- 
ing every  syllable  that  was  uttered. 

"  To  tell  you  the  whole  truth,"  said  Henry 
abruptly,  "  I  have  been  told  that  I  should  be 
killed  on  the  first  grand  occasion  ;  that  I  shall 
die  in  a  coach.  This  is  what  causes  my 
fear." 

"  I  never  heard  this  before,"  Sully  an- 
swered. "  It  explains  what  has  often  roused 
my  wonder  :  that  your  Majesty  .would  cry  out 
if  forced  to  enter  a  carriage,  and  yet  prove 
fearless,  almost  to  foolhardiness,  among  can- 
non, pikes,  and  swords.  Why  should  you 
submit  yourself  to  such  terrors?  Why  not 
leave  town  to-morrow  ?  The  coronation  could 
proceed  without  you." 

The  king  shook  his  head.  "  That  would 
never  do,"  he  said  shortly. 

"  Then  postpone  the  affair.  Meanwhile, 
for  yourself,  sire,  you  need  neither  reenter 
Paris  nor  step  into  a  coach.  Shall  I  send 
to  Notre  Dame  and  to  St.  Denis,  and  stop 
the  workmen  ?  I  will  do  so  if  you  think  it 
best." 

"  I  should  be  glad,"  rejoined  Henry.  "  I 
have  my  doubts  of  the  queen.  Her  heart  is 
set  on  this  ceremony." 

"  She  may  say  what  she  will,"  Sully  replied 


260  IN   THE  BRAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

curtly.  "  She  cannot  insist  if  you  tell  her 
what  you  have  just  now  told  me." 

He  turned  to  touch  the  bell.  He  started 
as  he  saw  Jan,  and  recalled  his  presence  with 
a  shock.  Henry  followed  the  direction  of  his 
glance.  Both  men  stepped  one  pace  towards 
the  boy.  Jan  advanced  and  bent  till  the 
plumed  hat  in  his  hand  swept  the  floor. 

"  Sire,  I  have  proven  my  discretion,"  said 
he,  "  and  my  loyalty  before  this,  —  the  one 
in  a  wayside  tavern,  the  other  in  the  D'En- 
trague  wood." 

The  friendly  old  monarch  frowned,  looked 
at  him  closely,  then  laughed,  with  a  somewhat 
foolish  side  glance  at  Sully.  "  Well  spoken," 
he  said.  "We  have  met  before,  in  one  of 
my  insane  pranks,  when  he  rescued  me  from 
D'Entrague,  who  would  fain  make  a  royal 
capture.  How  comes  the  youngster  here  ?  " 

"He  is  a  nephew  of  M.  Chapelain.  He 
has  been  voyaging  in  the  western  world  with 
Henry  Hudson,  the  Englishman.  He  brings 
strange  narratives  of  wild  adventure." 

"  In  which  he  bore  an  honorable  part,  no 
doubt,"  said  the  king. 

The  servant  entered  and  Jan  was  dismissed. 

Apparently  Marie  de  Medicis  would  not 
listen  to  her  husband's  apprehensions  of  evil. 


THE  VICTIM  OF  BAVAILLAC  261 

The  coronation  took  place  on  the  appointed 
day.  Sully  was  too  ill  to  appear.  The  cere- 
mony was  performed  by  the  Cardinal  de  Joy- 
euse,  who  had  become  a  priest  in  his  grief  at 
the  death  of  his  wife.  Naturally  Jan  was 
peculiarly  interested  in  all  that  occurred.  He 
outdid  even  Giles  in  his  recklessness  and  in  the 
points  for  sight-seeing  which  he  managed  to 
secure.  The  king  was  particularly  cheerful 
during  most  of  the  day.  It  was  told,  how- 
ever, from  one  to  another  that  at  the  height 
of  the  magnificent  service  he  suddenly  shiv- 
ered and  murmured  to  a  friend  who  stood 
next  to  him  :  — 

"  How  would  all  this  appear  if  it  were  the 
last  day,  and  the  Judge  were  to  show  him- 
self?" 

When  Jan  returned  to  his  uncle's  apart- 
ment that  night,  he  wondered  if  Henry  could 
be  more  relieved  than  he,  that  the  day  was 
safely  passed,  and  no  mischief  had  been 
done. 

On  the  following  morning  he  went  back  to 
the  Louvre.  He  hung  about,  listening  to  what 
was  said  by  those  who  came  and  went.  He 
was  still  tormented  by  an  uncertain  fear  that 
wakened  with  him  in  the  morning,  and  he 
wished  to  see  the  king  for  himself,  to  make 


262  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

sure  that  his  predictions  were  not  likely  to  be 
fulfilled. 

A  carriage  drove  up  at  the  foot  of  the 
steps.  After  what  he  had  said,  could  his 
Majesty  intend  to  enter  it  ?  It  must  be  so, 
for  the  bystanders  began  to  look  out  for  him, 
murmuring  to  each  other  that  there  was  to  be 
a  royal  visit  to  Sully,  who  was  still  confined 
to  his  room  at  the  arsenal. 

By  and  by  Henry  appeared  at  the  head  of 
the  stairs.  Jan  saw  him  look  back  to  kiss  his 
hand  to  the  queen,  who  was  watching  him. 

"  Adieu  !  "  he  called ;  "  Adieu !  I  shall 
only  go  and  come.  I  shall  return  instantly." 

At  the  coach  door  he  dismissed  his  captain 
of  the  guard.  "  We  need  no  one,"  he  said. 

His  eyes  feU  upon  Jan's  face  in  the  crowd. 
Perhaps  the  youth's  harassed  expression 
brought  back  to  his  mind  that  conversation 
with  the  Duke  of  Sully.  Henry  smiled  sadly 
at  Jan.  Then  he  took  his  place  in  the  coach. 

Jan  kept  pace  with  it  as  it  moved  away. 
By  the  king's  side  was  one  noble,  and  two 
were  opposite  to  him.  Wings  projected  from 
each  door.  In  these  sat  two  more  gentlemen. 
They  came  to  the  Croix  du  Tiroir.  Jan,  from 
the  roadway,  heard  some  one  ask  his  Majesty 
where  he  wished  to  go. 


THE  VICTIM  OF  RAVAILLAC  263 

"  To  St.  Innocent,"  he  answered ;  "  near 
the  end  of  the  Rue  St.  Honore." 

The  horses  broke  into  a  brisk  trot.  Jan 
could  not,  by  his  utmost  endeavor,  keep  up 
with  them.  Presently,  however,  a  heavy 
wagon  came  in  the  way  of  the  carriage.  It 
was  obliged  to  go  more  slowly.  Jan  thus  re- 
covered his  lost  ground.  They  were  passing 
the  iron-mongers'  shops.  They  came  to  one 
whose  sign  was  a  crowned  heart,  pierced 
through  with  an  arrow.  From  this  spot  a 
man  sprang  out.  The  coach  was  between  him 
and  Jan,  who  still  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
burly  form  as  it  stepped  up  on  the  wheel. 

Henry  had  his  left  arm  raised.  His  hand 
was  on  the  shoulder  of  M.  de  Montbazon. 
He  was  leaning  against  M.  d'Epernon,  who 
sat  beside  him  and  to  whom  he  was  speak- 
ing. The  murderer  struck  twice  at  him  with 
the  short  knife  he  held.  One  blow  glanced 
away.  The  other  went  home.  It  pierced  the 
side  of  the  king,  who  gave  a  cry,  — 

"  I  am  wounded." 

There  was  a  general  exclamation.  "  What 
is  it,  sire  ?  " 

"  Nothing,"  he  answered.  That  was  the 
last  word  he  spoke. 

The  coach  came  to  a  halt.     Some  of  its 


264  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

occupants  sprang  out  after  the  assassin.  Jan 
had  already  made  one  leap  across  the  street. 
He  had  the  man  tightly  pinioned  in  his  own 
strong  arms,  but  he  was  glad  to  turn  over  his 
captive  that  he  might  follow  the  coach.  M. 
d'Epernon  had  thrown  his  cloak  over  the  dy- 
ing king.  The  carriage  was  directed  towards 
the  Louvre.  When  the  foot  of  the  steps  was 
reached  wine  was  poured  down  Henry's  throat. 
He  opened  his  eyes,  but  closed  them  again. 
So  he  was  carried  into  the  palace. 

Rumors  floated  about  the  place  of  that 
death-bed  and  its  incidents.  One  of  his  coun- 
cilors kid  the  cross  of  his  order  upon  Henry's 
mouth.  While  the  physician  stood  by,  weep- 
ing, and  the  surgeons  were  about  to  examine 
the  wound,  he  gave  a  sigh,  and  all  was  over. 

Those  waiting  outside  heard  that  the  Chan- 
cellor Sillery  ran  into  the  presence  of  the 
queen.  She  had  been  told  of  her  husband's 
wound.  She  exclaimed  at  sight  of  him,  — 

"  Alas,  the  king  is  dead  !  " 

To  this  Sillery  replied,  in  a  speech  that  has 
become  one  of  the  bywords  of  history, — 

"  Madame,  the  King  of  France  never  dies." 

There  was  felt  to  be  danger  that  this  mur- 
der might  be  part  of  a  Spanish  plot.  Jan 
had  the  forethought  to  hurry  to  Sully  with- 


THE  VICTIM  OF  EAVAILLAC  265 

out  delay.  He  found  that  old  soldier  stretched 
upon  a  couch,  but  he  sprang  upright,  his  ill- 
ness forgotten,  at  the  awful  news. 

"  Ring,"  he  said  to  Jan,  "  and  give  my 
orders  for  me.  Forty  horsemen  at  once,  and 
we  will  return  to  the  Louvre." 

Jan  was  among  the  band  when,  on  their 
return,  they  were  met  by  the  Duke  of  Guise. 
He  stopped  Sully  to  tell  him  that  Henry  was 
dead. 

"  Sir,"  was  the  answer,  "  if  your  duty  you 
vowed  to  the  king  is  as  strong  in  you  as  it 
should  be  in  all  good  Frenchmen,  swear  to 
show  the  same  allegiance  to  his  son ;  to  shed 
your  blood  to  avenge  this  death." 

"I  do  not  need  to  be  thus  advised,"  said 
Guise.  "  I  am  forcing  others  to  take  the 
oath." 

Sully  was  not  yet  certain  of  what  was  to 
follow.  He  proceeded  to  shut  himself  into 
the  Bastile,  collected  provision  from  the  mar- 
ketmen,  and  sent  word  to  his  son-in-law  to 
bring  six  thousand  Swiss  to  Paris. 

Before  this  Jan  had  returned  to  his  friends. 
They  were  filled  with  consternation  at  what 
he  had  to  tell  them.  It  was  speedily  shown 
that  the  crown  was  in  no  peril.  Ravaillac, 
the  assassin,  had  no  accomplices*  Homage 


266  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

was  paid  to  King  Louis  Thirteenth,  who  was 
only  eight  years  old.  Sully  went  to  the 
Louvre  to  see  the  child  and  his  mother.  He 
was  presented  to  his  new  sovereign  by  Marie, 
under  the  title  of  one  of  his  father's  most 
faithful  servants.  The  following  day  she 
went  with  her  son  to  the  Parliament,  and  was 
confirmed  in  her  regency. 

So  Henry  Fourth  died  and  Louis  Thir- 
teenth was  king.  Often  after  this  our  youths 
saw  the  royal  family,  and  noticed  the  pretty 
face  of  the  little  Henrietta  Maria.  When 
they  were  nearing  middle  age  they  sometimes 
spoke  together  of  those  days  in  Paris,  and  of 
the  sweet  little  girl  who  seemed  meant  to  trip 
through  life  as  gayly  as  she  trod  the  rooms 
of  the  Tuileries.  Yet  she  was  to  shed  many 
tears  in  her  time,  and  know  poverty  and  dan- 
ger and  distress.  She  was  the  daughter  and 
the  sister,  the  wife  and  the  mother,  of  a  king. 
She  was  to  live  to  wed  the  "  Baby  Charles  " 
of  England,  and  troubles  were  to  fall  thickly 
upon  her  there.  All  this  was  hidden  in  the 
future.  When  it  came  to  pass,  Giles  and  Jan 
were  not  only  growing  old  and  gray,  but 
among  far  other  sights  and  surroundings  than 
those  of  beautiful  France. 


CHAPTER   XXV 

THE   NORTHWEST    PASSAGE 

"  HERE  is  good  news,  Giles,"  said  his  friend 
one  morning.  "  A  letter  has  arrived  from 
Captain  Hudson.  Our  best  hopes  are  real- 
ized." 

Giles  looked  up  enchanted.  "  Is  it  another 
voyage  of  discovery  ?  " 

"  So  he  says." 

"  And  he  is  willing  to  take  us  with  him  ?  " 

"  If  we  are  willing  to  go." 

There  was  such  a  protest  when  the  letter 
was  read  aloud  to  the  Chapelain  household 
that  the  youths  began  to  think  they  must 
send  Hudson  a  refusal  of  his  offer.  Mme. 
Chapelain  and  the  maidens  were  horrified  at 
the  thought  of  an  Arctic  exploration,  —  for 
this  was  to  be  solely  a  search  for  the  north- 
west passage,  —  and  pointed  out  that  it  might 
not  end  as  well  as  the  former  one  had  done, 
by  speedy  abandonment  of  the  project  in  favor 
of  the  quest  along  the  lower  coast.  M.  Chape- 
lain, alone,  stood  by  the  young  men. 


268  IN  THE  BRAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

"  They  are  old  enough,"  he  said.  "  Full- 
grown  fellows  of  seventeen.  They  want  to 
see  the  world.  Hudson  is  a  commander  among 
a  thousand.  Let  them  go,  say  I." 

"  I  own  that  I  am  homesick  for  America," 
was  Giles's  admission.  "  I  long  to  see  that 
land  again.  I  hope  this  journey  will  give  me 
another  visit  to  its  shores,  whether  we  pass 
beyond  them  to  India,  or  not.  And  I  do  look 
forward  to  the  day  when  we  all  shall  m#ke  a 
home  there,  on  the  banks  of  the  river  that 
Hudson  found." 

The  womankind  of  his  party  did  not  look 
allured  by  this  prospect,  although  Jan  added 
to  it  his  own  views  for  the  future.  "Will 
you  allow  it  to  stand  thus?"  he  proposed. 
"  May  we  go  over  to  England,  see  Sir  Robert 
Carey,  lay  the  case  before  him,  and,  if  he  ac- 
cepts for  Giles,  be  free  to  join  the  captain?" 

This  compromise  was  finally  agreed  upon. 
Meg  and  Annemie  were  secretly  proud  of 
their  brothers'  daring.  They  could  neither 
bear  to  stand  in  its  way,  nor  utterly  to  give 
them  up  to  its  promptings.  A  very  sorrow- 
ful farewell  ensued.  All  were  pretty  well 
assured  that  Giles's  old  guardian,  after  sur- 
rendering him  to  the  hands  of  Jan's  uncle, 
would  not  be  likely  to  interfere  in  this  present 


THE  NORTHWEST  PASSAGE  269 

plan.  The  boys  themselves  understood  what 
risks  they  were  taking.  Yet  neither  of  them, 
could  guess  what  was  to  happen,  nor  the  length 
of  time  that  was  to  pass  before  they  should 
return.  Nor  could  they  know  that  they  all 
were  never  to  meet  on  earth  again. 

One  April  day,  at  Portsmouth,  the  friends 
were  met  by  their  old  commander.  He 
greeted  them  cordially,  taking  them  to  his 
lodgings,  where  they  were  introduced  to  his 
wife  and  son.  Hudson  informed  them  that 
there  was  a  vexatious  delay  in  shipping  sailors 
for  the  voyage. 

"  If  ye  care  to  linger  in  England  for  a  sen- 
night or  so,  'tis  no  matter,"  he  said.  "I 
should  not  have  hastened  ye  from  France, 
had  I  any  thought  these  mischances  would 
rise  to  hinder  us  in  our  start." 

The  boys  assured  him  that  they  were  glad 
of  the  opportunity  to  make  a  little  visit  to 
their  old  home.  Accordingly,  they  set  out 
for  London,  after  sending  word  to  Sir  Robert, 
appointing  a  meeting.  Both  were  so  confi- 
dent that  the  asking  his  permission  was  a 
mere  form,  that  they  had  not  told  Hudson  of 
their  promise  to  their  sisters. 

It  proved  exactly  as  they  had  expected. 
Carey  was  only  interested  in  the  expedition, 


270  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

envied  them  the  experience,  and  bade  them 
Godspeed.  He  had  a  wife  and  babies  to 
show  his  ward,  was  happily  settled  down  at 
Richmond,  and  had  only  one  discomfort  in 
life.  He  had  married  into  a  Puritan  family, 
and  their  complaints  were  as  excessive  against 
the  government  as  was  Sir  Robert's  private 
indignation  when  any  one  of  his  Roman 
Catholic  friends  was  deprived,  because  of  his 
religion,  of  one  right  and  another.  King 
James  was  managing  matters  with  no  more 
tact,  to  say  the  least,  than  that  displayed  in 
the  first  days  of  his  accession. 

Sir  Robert  told  them  that  George  Earl  was 
in  Scotland.  "  Prince  Henry  is  another  sort 
than  either  of  you,"  said  the  courtier,  shak- 
ing his  head.  "  I  like  not  his  looks.  He  hath 
grown  tall,  —  taller  than  Giles,  —  but  frail 
and  slender  as  a  reed.  England  bases  too 
many  hopes  upon  that  fair  lad.  I  doubt  me 
they  may  all  come  to  naught." 

After  a  walk  to  see  Master  Carr,  and  one 
to  the  Grange,  and  a  talk  with  the  good  old 
friends  who  still  occupied  it  as  his  tenants, 
Giles  was  ready  to  start  back  to  Portsmouth. 
Jan  hastened  his  departure. 

"  I  shall  not  feel  sure  that  we  are  to  sail," 
he  said,  "  till  we  stand  on  deck  and  see  the 


THE  NORTHWEST  PASSAGE  271 

vanishing  shore  behind  us.  I  feel  as  if  we 
were  to  be  prevented ;  there  is  a  cloud  hang- 
ing over  me." 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders  as  if  to  throw  it 
off. 

"  Odd  !  "  Giles  laughed.  "  I  never  set 
out  upon  anything  that  promised  so  well  to 
my  fancy.  I  see  everything  through  a  golden 


glass.' 


Their  captain  did  not  share  these  rosy 
hopes.  He  was  full  of  trouble.  There  were 
sailors  in  plenty  at  the  port.  Such  men  as  he 
desired,  strong  of  character  and  of  body,  — 
those  were  not  to  be  procured  at  will. 

"  I  have  shipped  one  old  acquaintance," 
Hudson  said.  "  Do  you  remember  Hessel  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  Giles  answered,  "  I  remember  him 
very  well." 

Before  the  month  had  passed  they  had 
sailed  away  from  land.  At  the  moment  that 
they  caught  their  last  glimpse  of  England, 
Giles  reminded  his  friend  of  his  foreboding. 

"  It  has  come  to  nothing,  you  see,"  he 
added.  "  Although  I  grant  you  one's  incli- 
nation would  not  seek  out  such  fellow-passen- 
gers as  ours.  Were  there  ever  such  murderous 
faces  outside  a  prison  ?  " 

"  The  Half  Moon's  crew  were  angels  to 


272  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

them,"  Jan  assented.  "  Hessel  quite  shines 
beside  the  others.  Yet  I  wish  he  were  any- 
where rather  than  here." 

The  ship  bore  steadily  away  to  the  north- 
west. In  June  they  approached  the  coast  of 
Greenland.  As  far  as  the  eye  could  reach 
fields  office  covered  the  ocean.  The  appear- 
ance was  of  a  multitude  of  white  islands  dot- 
ted over  the  sea.  There  were  broad  lanes  of 
water  zigzagging  about,  through  which  Hud- 
son made  a  path.  The  way  behind  them  was 
closed  at  once.  As  far  as  the  horizon  nothing 
could  be  seen  save  the  floes,  some  of  them 
miles  in  extent.  There  was  no  landing  upon 
the  eastern  coast  of  Greenland.  For  leagues 
before  them  the  broken  ice  intervened. 

Their  course  lay  to  the  south  of  the  island. 
Here  at  the  east  they  hoped  to  find  a  port. 
Now  icebergs  came  into  sight.  Because  of 
the  ice-fields  there  was  no  keeping  out  of  their 
way.  They  were  obliged  to  sail  among  them, 
the  tall,  fantastically  shaped  peaks  looming 
over  the  masts,  their  surfaces  chilling  the  air. 
It  was  a  fearful  experience.  Horror  was 
added  to  horror  by  rumbling  sounds  and  re- 
ports like  those  from  a  cannon,  when  a  berg 
broke  into  pieces  and  fell  scattering  into  the 
sea.  Night  and  day  the  awful  cold,  the  awful 


THE  NORTHWEST  PASSAGE  273 

noises  continued,  while  they  slowly,  carefully 
picked  their  way  through  this  frozen  world. 

One  day  a  boat's  crew  put  out,  of  course 
by  the  captain's  permission,  but  rather  against 
his  better  judgment,  into  one  of  the  broader 
water  lanes,  on  a  seal  hunt.  The  fields  here- 
abouts were  covered  with  these  animals,  some 
of  them  sleeping  upon  the  ice,  some  rolling 
over  and  over  like  puppies  at  play,  some  pop- 
ping their  sleek  heads  above  the  water,  then 
diving  out  of  sight.  Jan  went  with  the  men. 
Each  was  armed  with  a  club.  They  scattered 
in  every  direction,  meaning  to  creep  upon  and 
surprise  the  seals  before  they  should  take 
fright.  They  sprang  among  a  group  of  a 
dozen  beasts,  hit  right  and  left,  knocking 
them  upon  the  nose,  then  dragged  them  by  a 
rope  to  the  boat.  Soon  a  great  number  had 
been  killed  in  this  fashion.  The  boat  was 
obliged  to  make  repeated  trips  to  the  ship. 
It  looked  like  useless  slaughter,  but  the  crew 
understood  how  needful  these  skins  would  be 
in  their  further  Arctic  journey. 

After  thus  going  to  and  fro  a  half  dozen 
times,  the  men  returned  for  the  last  heap 
piled  upon  the  edge  of  a  floating  cake  of 
enormous  size.  Hudson  warned  them  to  be 
particularly  careful. 


274  IN   THE  BRAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

"  Keep  your  eyes  on  the  ice,"  said  he.  "  It 
is  moving  slowly  together.  I  fear  you  will 
be  caught." 

From  the  ship  they  saw  the  men  leap  out 
of  the  boat.  Cracks  began  to  run  faster  and 
faster  through  the  ice.  The  grinding  of  its 
sides  together,  the  sharp  sound  from  the 
splitting  mountains,  echoed  like  a  bombard- 
ment. The  ship  was  hemmed  in  by  enormous 
hills.  Between  them  the  party  on  the  field 
were  espied  running  back  to  their  boat.  A 
seal  suddenly  peeped  its  head  out  of  a  crack 
across  which  Jan  was  springing.  He  started, 
tripped,  and  fell.  The  men  before  him  looked 
around  at  the  noise.  Those  behind  ran  to 
his  assistance.  Their  loud  reproaches  for  his 
clumsiness,  and  the  delay  it  caused,  broke  in 
upon  the  voice  of  nature.  The  accident  was 
the  means  of  saving  their  lives.  The  fore- 
most had  been  ready  to  jump  into  the  boat. 
Now,  before  they  could  reach  it,  the  contract- 
ing ice  took  it  between  its  jaws.  There 
was  a  hideous  crushing  movement.  It  was 
smashed  to  atoms,  like  an  eggshell  underneath 
a  weight. 

"  To  the  ship  !  to  the  ship  !  "  arose  a  call. 

There  was  not  an  instant  to  be  lost.  The 
hills  and  hummocks,  bearing  down  upon  the 


THE  NORTHWEST  PASSAGE  275 

bark,  not  only  threatened  its  destruction,  but 
made  approach  more  uncertain  with  every 
second.  One  by  one  the  men,  leaping,  climb- 
ing, sliding,  came  into  view.  They  were 
pulled  on  deck  by  their  comrades  there. 

The  ice  split  in  front  of  them  as  swiftly  as 
it  had  closed  in.  A  long  lane  opened  out, 
and  dangerous  as  it  was,  bordered  by  toppling 
bergs  and  advancing  fields,  it  yet  promised 
present  deliverance.  They  went  forward  with 
the  utmost  caution. 

Not  long  after  this,  land  was  seen  upon  the 
east,  —  a  point  of  Greenland  near  where  Hud- 
son had  heard  of  a  settlement  that  existed  for 
several  centuries,  but  was  finally  wiped  out 
by  the  plague.  He  was  in  hopes  that  some- 
where in  the  neighborhood  he  might  find  na- 
tives with  whom  they  could  trade,  and  who 
could  give  them  information  in  regard  to  their 
route.  They  effected  a  landing  by  means  of 
the  ice,  that  was  here  immovable,  stretching 
out  from  the  coast  for  many  yards.  It  was 
a  rather  pleasant  day,  chilly  but  not  cold, 
with  a  brilliant  sun  shining  on  the  rocks 
and  patches  of  green  grass.  Hudson  directed 
Giles  and  Jan  to  make  a  search  along  the 
shore  for  Esquimaux.  To  the  boys'  surprise, 
Hessel  requested  permission  to  accompany 


276  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

them.  He  walked  along  beside  them  for  a 
time  without  a  word.  Then  he  broke  out :  — 

"  I  've  looked  for  a  chance  to  talk  with 
you,  Valentine,  ever  since  we  left  England. 
I  want  to  tell  you  that  I  have  not  forgotten 
how  you  behaved  to  me  on  the  Half  Moon." 

Giles  looked  puzzled ;  partly  because  he 
did  not  altogether  understand  the  Dutchman, 
and  partly  because  his  speech  might  be  taken 
in  two  ways. 

"  How  did  I  behave  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  You  kept  your  tongue  between  your  teeth. 
I  suppose  Verrooy  knows  all  about  it.  I  can 
see  that  Hudson  doesn't.  You  had  us  in 
your  power,  and  yet  you  never  betrayed  what 
had  happened  when  we  left  you  alone  on  the 
river." 

"  That 's  all  past  and  done  with,"  said  Giles, 
embarrassed  by  the  praise. 

"  No ;  it  is  not  done  with.  I  may  have  a 
chance  some  day  to  pay  you  for  it.  If  the 
opportunity  comes,  I  shan't  forget  how  you 
stood  by  me  then.  Mark  my  words  !  " 

He  spoke  with  solemnity.  Giles  quickly 
turned  the  subject. 

"  There  are  huts  !  "  he  exclaimed,  hasten- 
ing his  steps.  "  Ah  !  there  are  natives  com- 
ing to  meet  us.  The  captain  was  right." 


THE  NOETHWEST  PASSAGE  277 

They  broke  into  a  run. 

The  dirty,  forlorn  hovels  were  constructed 
of  ice  and  snow.  Bearskins  hung  at  the  tun- 
nel entrance,  and  lay  upon  the  floor  inside. 
The  squalid  people,  wrapped  in  furs,  who 
thronged  about  them,  carried  them  hospitably 
forward,  chattering  ceaselessly  in  a  language 
of  which  none  of  them  could  understand  a 
word. 

"  It  is  a  warm  welcome,  at  all  events,"  Jan 
observed.  "  We  can  make  that  out  from 
their  gestures  and  grins.  They  want  us  to 
visit  them." 

One  man  was  a  sort  of  leader.  He  secured 
all  three  for  his  prize,  and  walked  them  into 
his  wretched  home.  An  old  woman  was  chew- 
ing strips  of  skin,  which,  her  husband  showed 
his  guests,  were  thus  rendered  soft  and  pliable, 
and  made  into  articles  of  clothing. 

Two  lamps  burned  dimly  in  the  close  room. 
They  were  of  soapstone,  scooped  out,  lined 
thickly  with  dried  and  powdered  moss,  and 
half  filled  with  oil.  Over  these  were  hung 
two  pots,  in  which  wild  duck  was  stewing. 
It  would  have  been  a  savory  odor,  had  it  not 
mingled  with  the  offensive  smells  of  the  filthy 
spot. 

The  sailors  were  accustomed  to  making  the 


278  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

best  of  things,  but  they  were  likewise  used  to 
the  exquisite  cleanliness  of  shipboard. 

"  Let  us  take  the  man  back  with  us  to 
Hudson,"  Hessel  suggested.  "  I  would  rather 
have  him  for  guest  than  host."  And  he 
seized  the  Esquimau  by  the  arm. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

AN    ARCTIC    WINTER 

THE  native  was  very  willing  to  accompany 
them.  Several  of  his  friends,  who  were  not 
included  in  the  invitation,  also  attached  them- 
selves to  the  party.  Hudson  was  delighted 
with  the  prize  his  explorers  brought  back 
with  them. 

He  found  that  there  was  little  progress  to 
be  made  between  them  by  signs.  He  could 
not  understand  the  man,  nor  could  he  be  sure 
that  the  man  understood  him. 

"  We  shall  have  to  depend  upon  making 
our  discoveries  for  ourselves,"  he  finally  an- 
nounced. "  If  this  fellow  knows  anything  of 
a  passage  to  the  East,  we  shall  not  find  out 
from  him.  I  had  hoped  that  some  words  of 
a  European  language  —  something  that  we 
could  comprehend  —  might  have  been  left 
from  the  traditions  of  the  old  Danish  colony." 

Harry  Hudson  was  not  old  enough  to  share 
fully  in  his  father's  disappointment.  He  took 
the  most  unfeigned  pleasure  in  the  stranger's 


280  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

appearance,  and  was  good-naturedly  shown  the 
breeches  and  boots  of  bearskin,  the  under- 
clothing of  birds'  skin,  the  coat  and  hood  of 
fox,  the  seal  mittens  and  stockings.  While 
he  was  examining  and  exclaiming  in  childish 
curiosity,  his  elders  watched  Hudson's  ex- 
pressive face. 

"  Another  blow,  where  he  has  had  so 
many  !  "  thought  Jan. 

They  sent  away  the  Esquimau  with  some 
trifling  trinkets  that  made  him  grunt  for  joy. 
Without  more  delay,  the  order  was  issued  to 
put  out  again  to  sea. 

Some  days  followed,  of  the  life  that  was 
beginning  to  grow  monotonous  even  in  its 
endless  hazards.  At  a  snail's  pace  they  stole 
among  towering  hills  and  level  patches  of 
glistening  ice.  The  captain  kept  a  man  con- 
stantly in  the  rudely  constructed  crow's-nest 
aloft.  It  was  muttered  among  the  crew  that 
some  sign  of  the  long-expected  passage  must 
soon  come,  or  —  significantly  —  it  would  be 
too  late. 

"  There  is  only  one  end  to  such  an  unequal 
fight  between  Man  and  the  Frost,"  said  Hessel 
to  Jan.  "And  some  day  we  shall  see  that 
end." 

"  Well,  we  all  sailed  in  this  expedition  with 


AN  ARCTIC   WINTER  281 

our  eyes  wide  open,"  was  Jan's  answer. 
"  We  understood  our  leader's  plans,  and  what 
they  involved.  He  has  not  deceived  us." 

Hessel  shot  a  sidelong  sly  glance  at  him. 
He  opened  his  lips,  as  if  to  say  something 
more,  but  closed  them  quickly  and  went 
away. 

These  three  from  the  old  Half  Moon,  with 
the  Half  Moon's  commander,  all  recalled  that 
day  when  the  river  far  to  the  south  was 
sighted ;  for,  on  a  bright  July  morning,  there 
was  the  same  hail  from  the  lookout :  — 

"  Water  on  the  larboard  side  !  " 

It  was  not  long  before  they  ah1  could  see 
it :  a  plain,  broad  highway,  although  it  was 
fringed  with  ice.  Henry  Hudson  clasped  his 
hands  in  thanksgiving.  His  eyes  swept  the 
vast  horizon  to  a  wide  stretch  of  sea.  Surely 
this  was  the  goal  of  his  fondest  dreams, — 
another  path  to  the  Indies.  It  grew  in  like- 
lihood with  each  hour,  while  they  advanced 
through  the  strait  into  the  bay,  both  of  which 
were  to  be  called  in  coming  years  by  his 
name,  as  was  the  river  he  had  found  to  the 
south.  These  Arctic  waters  were  to  prove 
as  deceptive  as  the  other. 

In  these  warm  months  they  sailed  with 
comparative  freedom  across  the  great  gulf, 


282  IN   THE  BRAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

their  certainty  becoming  more  assured,  when 
its  size  was  seen,  that  it  was  the  arm  of  the 
sea  to  lead  them  through  the  land. 

Alas !  they  came  finally  to  its  borders. 
They  put  about ;  north  and  south  they  flew, 
like  an  animal  in  a  trap  trying  all  its  con- 
fines. Each  rocky  wall  proclaimed,  "  No 
thoroughfare." 

The  short  summer  was  going  in  the  search. 
The  strait  had  led  them  through  its  icy  gates, 
but  they  were  now  closed.  It  was  idle  to 
look  for  egress  before  another  year. 

"  We  must  winter  here  in  the  north,"  an- 
nounced the  captain.  "  Our  search  can  be 
prosecuted  in  the  spring." 

The  prospect  was  not  bright  for  any  one. 
The  men  took  it  very  ill.  They  said  among 
themselves  that  the  entire  voyage  had  been 
a  failure  through  Hudson's  bungling.  On 
all  occasions  Giles  and  Jan  stood  up  for  their 
leader.  Had  it  not  been  for  Hessel's  rough 
championship,  they  might  have  fared  badly 
among  the  crew.  The  most  apparent  effect 
of  frequent  quarrels  on  the  subject  of  their 
misfortunes  was  that  the  youths  kept  more 
and  more  with  Harry  and  his  father,  and  left 
the  others  to  themselves. 

For  the  extremest  cold  the  ship  was  aban- 


AN  AECTIC  WINTER  283 

doned,  it  being  the  captain's  opinion  that 
they  would  be  safer  on  land  than  on  the  ves- 
sel, when  the  ice  closed  in  around  it.  They 
found  a  peculiarly  fortunate  situation  for 
their  temporary  home.  At  the  foot  of  a 
steep  hill  on  a  small  island  there  were  massed 
together  several  piles  of  rock,  split  from  the 
cliff  and  lying  upon  the  stony  beach.  Two  of 
these  pieces  had  fallen  so  as  to  form  a  very 
crude  sort  of  tent  some  twenty  feet  across 
the  bottom,  and  rising  to  that  height  at  the 
top.  Heaps  of  stone  lay  against  this  at  the 
back.  In  front,  it  would  be  no  difficult  task 
to  lay  a  low  tunnel  entrance  for  protection 
and  warmth.  The  rocks  could  be  mortared 
together  with  moss  and  mud.  A  chimney 
could  be  raised  by  all  the  hands  they  had  at 
leisure,  during  the  long  daylight  of  an  Arctic 
summer. 

The  glare  of  the  sunshine  on  snow  was 
wearisome ;  the  complaining  men  brought  it 
forward  for  another  grievance.  Yet  their 
groans  were  redoubled  when  darkness  fell. 
There  were  forerunners,  first,  of  the  winter. 
The  birds  began  to  leave  them,  the  grass  and 
flowers  died,  ice  formed  upon  the  water,  snow 
squalls  were  common,  the  wind  howled  piti- 
lessly, and  the  days  grew  shorter. 


284  IN  TUE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

The  men  made  themselves  clothing  of  the 
sealskins,  and  from  the  pelt  of  an  occasional 
fox  which  they  shot.  So  far  no  one  had  seen 
a  bear.  Birds  were  often  caught.  They 
used  the  soft  skin,  covered  with  down,  for 
hoods. 

Their  supply  of  food  was  readily  procured. 
The  water  and  land  fowl  were  tame ;  they 
shot  them  in  vast  quantities,  or  hunted  their 
nests  for  eggs.  Hudson  had  supplied  his 
vessel  with  ammunition  and  with  provision, 
having  this  emergency  in  view.  Perhaps,  if 
the  men  had  been  in  positive  danger,  they 
might  have  clung  to  their  chief  in  the  devo- 
tion that  such  an  event  excites.  They  had 
nothing  worse  than  discomfort  to  bear,  and 
they  did  not  bear  it  well.  Unfortunately,  the 
captain  set  all  their  wrath  down  to  mariners' 
temper,  and  was  not  on  his  guard  against  it. 

They  moved  into  their  land  quarters,  carry- 
ing their  valuable  possessions  from  the  ship. 
The  autumn  twilight  fell.  Then  followed 
darkness,  utter  and  black.  It  was  night,  be- 
yond any  night  they  had  ever  known.  It 
would  have  been  unbearable,  they  thought, 
were  it  not  that  the  white  covering  of  the 
snow  served  to  give  a  dim,  reflected  light  by 
which  they  could  move  about.  Even  under 


AN  ARCTIC   WINTER  285 

these  conditions  they  were  at  a  disadvantage ; 
but  they  were  not  entirely  prisoners. 

Giles  and  Jan  were  accustomed  to  going 
out  upon  the  ice  or  along  the  shore  on  long 
walks.  This  was  partly  for  exercise  and 
from  restlessness,  partly  to  get  out  from  their 
crowded  room  and  the  companionship  of  the 
crew,  partly  that  they  might  enjoy  each  other's 
society.  Harry  often  begged  to  accompany 
them.  They  could  not  refuse,  although  his 
presence  prevented  some  consultations  they 
would  have  liked  to  hold. 

For  things  were  not  going  well  in  the 
camp.  The  men  got  together  in  groups  to 
converse  in  scowling  whispers.  They  gave  a 
sullen  obedience  to  their  captain's  commands. 
They  always  stopped  talking  when  he  or  his 
son  or  either  of  the  youths  approached. 

"  Suppose  I  take  Hessel  away,  on  some 
pretext,"  Giles  suggested,  "  and  try  to  find 
out  what  they  are  about." 

He  soon  discovered  an  excuse.  Going  out 
for  a  can  of  water,  he  saw,  as  he  stooped  to 
break  through  the  ice,  a  track  upon  the  snow 
that  drew  his  closer  attention.  It  was  differ- 
ently marked  from  the  light  pat  of  a  fox.  It 
looked  a  little  like  the  imprint  of  a  child's 
naked  foot.  Giles  dashed  back  to  the  inclo- 


286  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

sure.  He  crept  through  the  entrance,  thrust 
back  the  blankets  that  hung  across  the  rocky 
doorway,  and  touched  Jan's  prostrate  form. 

"  Do  you  want  to  go  bear-hunting  ?  "  he 
whispered. 

Light  as  had  been  his  steps  and  low  as  was 
his  salutation,  a  half  dozen  shaggy  heads 
raised  themselves  from  their  slumber-bags, 
and  glared  at  him  through  the  gloom.  Hessel 
was  one  of  the  awakened  men.  Jan  sat  up 
with  a  joyful  start.  He  sank  back,  remember- 
ing their  last  conversation,  when  he  caught 
the  Dutchman's  glittering  eyes. 

"  Take  Hessel,"  said  he.  "  I  cut  my  hand 
yesterday,  you  remember.  I  could  not  hold 
a  musket." 

Giles  was  scarcely  less  disappointed  than 
his  friend.  What  a  memory  it  would  be,  for 
the  remainder  of  their  lives,  if  they  could  kill 
their  first  bear  together !  Yet  he  saw  what 
Jan's  thoughtfulness  had  grasped  at  once : 
this  was  the  opportunity,  when  .opportunities 
were  rare,  for  an  appeal  to  their  only  ally 
among  the  disaffected  men. 

Hessel  was  pleased  to  go,  and  was  ready  in 
a  twinkling.  They  said  nothing  of  their 
errand  to  the  others,  stealing  out  by  them- 
selves into  the  dark. 


AN  ARCTIC  WINTER  287 

Giles  led  his  companion  to  the  track  on  the 
snow.  They  followed  it  along  the  broken 
ice  on  the  shore  to  the  storehouse  the  crew 
had  built,  like  a  snow  fort,  against  the  rocks. 
A  shout  of  dismay  pealed  out  from  them 
both.  It  resounded  in  the  camp.  The  men 
came  pouring  out  of  their  retreat. 

"  What  is  wrong?  "  called  Hudson. 

Giles  pointed  in  silence.  He  could  not 
find  speech  for  the  catastrophe.  The  captain 
hurried  up,  the  men  following.  The  extent 
of  their  disaster  broke  in  upon  them  all  at 
once. 

Not  one  bear,  but  several  had  been  there 
while  they  slept. 

There    were    confused    tracks    wandering- 

O 

about  the  spot.  Their  precious  hoards  had 
been  dragged  out  from  their  hiding-place. 
Blocks  of  snow  were  pitched  aside.  Stones 
were  rolled  hither  and  thither.  Skins  were 
torn  away.  The  food  that  had  been  saved 
to  secure  their  future  was  eaten,  trodden 
underfoot,  mangled,  destroyed.  There  was 
not  enough  left  for  a  single  day's  rations  for 
all  those  hungry  men. 

There  was  no  more  thought  of  a  secret 

O 

conference  between  Giles  and  Hessel.  The 
crew  flew  to  the  tent  for  their  weapons. 


288  IN  TIIE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

Giles  and  Jan,  together  after  all,  ran  forward 
with  Hudson  and  the  Dutchman.  They  were 
on  the  track  of  two  bears.  They  came  to 
an  ice  hillock,  where  the  animals  separated. 
Hudson  and  Hessel  went  to  the  right.  Giles 
and  his  crippled  comrade,  the  latter  regard- 
less of  his  wound,  took  the  other  direction. 

"  Hist !  there  it  is,"  said  Jan. 

"  There  are  three  !  "  was  the  quick  answer. 

One  was  a  cub ;  one  was  half  grown ;  the 
third  was  an  immense  fellow,  weighing  fully 
one  thousand  pounds.  They  were  worrying 
the  carcass  of  a  fox  that  had  been  shot  and 
skinned  the  day  before. 

The  boys  went  across  the  ice  on  tiptoe, 
Jan  holding  his  long  knife  in  his  maimed 
hand.  Giles  aimed  his  musket  at  the  largest 
beast.  Its  head  was  turned  away;  its  nose 
was  in  the  snow  against  the  fox.  Jan  was 
slightly  in  advance.  The  great  bear  cocked 
its  ears,  wheeled  clumsily  about,  and  was  on 
him  in  another  moment. 

How  it  happened  neither  of  them  could 
ever  tell.  Jan  threw  himself  forward,  plun- 
ging the  dirk  into  its  neck,  behind  the  lower 
jaw.  The  blood  gushed  out  in  torrents.  The 
bear  gave  a  roar  that  shook  the  rocks.  The 
other  animals  scrambled  up,  only  to  follow 


AN  ARCTIC  WINTER  289 

their  leader  as  it  ambled  away  over  the  snow. 
The  boys  kept  hard  upon  them. 

The  stream  of  blood  guided  where  it  was 
impossible  to  take  such  strides  as  their  game. 
The  cub  fell  behind.  Giles  shot  it;  food  had 
become  a  matter  of  importance.  He  hurried 
on,  following  the  trail  among  the  hillocks, 
eager  to  be  in  at  the  death,  or  at  least  to  gain 
some  glory  by  a  blow  at  the  larger  young 
one. 

A  cry  aroused  him  from  these  thoughts. 
It  was  Jan's  voice.  He  was  calling  aloud  for 
help. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

MUTINY 

GILES'S  feet  felt  clogged  with  lead,  yet  he 
ran  over  the  uneven  ice  with  incredible  speed, 
led  by  the  trail  of  blood  no  less  than  by  Jan's 
shouts.  The  track  of  the  bear  became  more 
and  more  crooked.  He  could  see  how  it  was 
wavering.  He  was  not  surprised  to  find  it 
presently,  lying  upon  its  side,  dead.  Jan  was 
not  here,  so  Giles  sped  on. 

He  came  in  sight  of  his  friend,  who  had 
rashly  attacked  the  third  bear.  His  lame 
hand  had  given  out.  He  had  wounded  the 
infuriated  animal,  and  a  fierce  combat  was 
going  on.  Jan  was  in  sore  straits. 

He  had  been  thrown  on  his  back.  One 
great  paw,  planted  upon  his  breast,  was  crush- 
ing out  his  life.  The  beast's  hot  breath  blew 
in  his  face.  He  could  see  the  small  angry 
eyes,  glowing  like  coals  of  fire,  close  to  his 
own. 

The  difficulty  was  to  harm  the  bear  without 
also  injuring  the  boy.  Giles  surveyed  the 


MUTINY  291 

two  in  deep  perplexity,  feeling  that  lie  must 
make  an  instantaneous  decision.  He  lifted 
the  musket  he  happily  had  loaded  beside  the 
cub  he  shot.  A  sharp  report  rang  out  through 
the  foggy  air.  The  puff  of  smoke  cleared 
away.  Giles  had  chosen  well.  The  bear  was 
hit  in  the  back,  —  a  broad  target  presented  to 
him  while  the  struggle  between  man  and  beast 
was  waging.  It  was  only  a  flesh  wound, 
though  it  served  its  purpose.  It  attracted 
Bruin's  attention,  and  turned  it  upon  this 
new  adversary. 

Jan  scrambled  to  his  feet.  He  picked  up 
his  knife  where  it  had  fallen  in  the  melee. 
He  sped  nimbly  towards  Giles,  putting  their 
foe  between  them.  Giles  rapidly  reloaded. 
He  shot  once  more,  and  missed. 

"  Your  knife  !  your  knife  !  "  screamed  Jan, 
as  the  brute,  head  down  and  growling  sav- 
agely, plunged  awkwardly  forward. 

Giles  pulled  out  the  dirk.  He  endeavored 
to  imitate  his  companion's  successful  blow. 
His  mind  was  as  clear  as  the  senses  often  be- 
come in  such  seasons  of  supreme  peril. 

"  Behind  the  lower  jaw  and  below  the  ear," 
he  reflected.  "  That  was  Jan's  stroke,  and  it 
was  fatal." 

He  made  a  swift  pass  at  the  spot.     What 


292  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

Jan  had  done  by  a  mere  chance  blow  he  could 
not  deliberately  accomplish.  He  inflicted  a 
deep  flesh  wound,  without  striking  the  artery. 
One  of  those  paws  struck  him  and  knocked 
him  flat  upon  the  snow.  Jan  fell  on  the 
bear.  His  knife  flashed  back  and  forth 
through  the  air.  His  lithe,  slender  figure 
moved  like  a  shadow.  Giles's  sturdier  bulk 
had  been  overthrown,  but  Jan  was  not  to  be 
again  surprised,  as  he  had  been  when  the  bear 
first  turned  on  him.  He  kept  out  of  range 
of  those  flying  paws,  the  open  scarlet  mouth, 
the  wicked  long  white  teeth. 

By  the  time  his  breath  came  shorter,  his 
blows  grew  feebler,  Giles  was  up  again. 

"  Load  and  fire  !  "  panted  the  young  Dutch- 
man. "  I  can  —  keep  him  —  busy  —  a  mo- 
ment —  more." 

Only  a  moment,  yet  it  sufficed.  Another 
loud  report  echoed  from  the  hills.  Bruin  was 
weakened  by  loss  of  blood  and  by  the  energy 
of  these  strange  antagonists.  Giles's  shot 
took  effect.  The  heavy  bulk  trembled,  and 
lurched  from  one  side  to  the  other.  It  fell 
prone  upon  the  snow.  A  quiver  ran  through 
the  body.  Then  all  was  still. 

The  boys  dragged  this  mass  of  flesh  and 
fur  —  both  needed  by  their  party  —  to  the 


MUTINY  293 

place  where  Jan's  victim  was  found.  Here 
they  met  Hudson  and  Hessel.  They  had 
been  unsuccessful.  The  tracks  they  followed 
doubled,  leading  them  around  to  the  store- 
house. Evidently  there  were  but  three  bears 
in  the  first  place.  Jan  and  Giles  had  shot 
them  all. 

The  cub  was  secured,  and  the  enormous 
white  bear  was  skinned  and  cut  into  pieces 
where  it  lay.  There  was  food  for  the  present 
provided  in  plenty,  even  for  twenty-five  men. 
That  number  must  look  for  more  game,  if 
they  were  not  to  know  before  long  what  short 
rations  meant. 

No  bears  appeared  after  this  for  several 
weeks.  Then  one  was  killed  by  a  man  on 
the  watch.  Occasionally  some  one  shot  a  fox. 
Ammunition  was  running  short,  now  that  they 
were  forced  to  depend  entirely  for  food  on 
what  they  hunted.  One  day  Giles  and  Harry 
were  strolling  about  on  the  ice,  when  the  lat- 
ter thrust  one  foot  into  a  large  opening  made 
by  some  animal.  It  was  covered  by  a  snow 
crust,  so  that  neither  had  noticed  the  weak 
spot  in  that  uncertain . light. 

"  It  is  a  seal-hole,"  Giles  said,  examining 
it  more  closely.  "  Harry,  look  about  thee. 
Mayhap  we  shall  find  others.  If  seal  are 


294  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

plentiful,  we  shall  not  go  an  hungered,  after 
all." 

Harry  privately  thought  that  seal  meat 
would  be  no  delicacy.  However,  he  was 
eager  for  the  sport.  "  I  will  do  whate'er 
you  say,  Master  Valentine,"  he  promised. 

Giles  reflected  for  an  instant.  "  Run  to 
the  camp  and  bring  me  two  of  the  Esqui- 
mau's spears,"  he  said,  "  with  a  few  fish- 
lines  as  well." 

At  last  some  part  of  their  barter  with  the 
man  in  the  Greenland  village  was  to  prove  of 
use.  Harry  was  back  again  in  an  instant. 
After  considerable  trouble,  Giles  fastened  the 
spears  to  one  line.  Then  they  waited  beside 
an  air-hole  for  a  seal  to  appear. 

It  was  not  long  before  they  heard  a  puff ; 
a  little  shower  of  spray  flew  up  through  a  tiny 
crevice  in  the  crust.  Giles  plunged  his  spear 
like  a  flash.  It  hit  the  seal's  neck  and  drove 
down  into  the  flesh. 

Away  went  the  seal.  The  spear  went  with 
him.  The  line  played  out ;  the  spear  at  its 
other  end  flew  wildly  about  the  ice ;  when 
it  reached  the  hole  it  lodged  across  it,  and, 
though  jerked  to  and  fro,  could  go  no  farther. 
The  seal  pulled  and  strained  to  no  avail.  By 
and  by  its  head  appeared  at  another  hole  near 


MUTINY  295 

at  hand.  The  line  was  loosened.  The  boys 
began  to  wind  it  around  the  spear  they  held. 
Whenever  the  entrapped  animal  came  to  the 
surface  to  breathe,  they  were  on  the  watch 
for  it.  They  drew  in  more  and  more  of  the 
line,  until  they  had  the  seal  secure  in  a  cer- 
tain hole.  Then  the  blows  Giles  aimed  with 
his  knife  took  effect.  At  last  they  had  cap- 
tured their  prize. 

Skinning  the  beast  was  a  tedious  and  dis- 
agreeable piece  of  work  that  was  divided 
among  the  men.  The  blubber  was  removed, 
and  stored  away  for  use  in  lighting  and  heat- 
ing the  tent.  The  meat  was  cut  into  strips, 
and  also  stored,  —  with  infinite  precautions 
nowadays,  —  nor  did  Harry  disdain  a  hot  seal 
steak. 

All  this  time  neither  Giles  nor  Jan  had 
found  opportunity  for  a  talk  with  Hessel. 
It  was  obvious  that  the  man  avoided  them. 
It  was  no  less  apparent  to  the  friends  that 
something  was  amiss  among  the  men. 

Light  began  to  dawn.  At  first  there  was 
a  little  flash  at  midday.  It  grew  more  and 
more  to  the  glow  of  an  early  dawn.  Then, 
the  following  day,  the  sun  appeared  a  little 
higher  above  the  horizon,  and  a  little  higher 
still.  The  long  day  had  begun.  The  snow 


296  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

melted.  Streams  rushed  down  the  cliffs  to 
the  bay.  The  ice  became  soft  and  cracked, 
and  the  winds  carried  it  about  in  floes  and 
hills  that  finally  drifted  out  to  sea. 

Grass  grew  green  on  the  slopes.  Delicate 
small  plants  bloomed  into  lovely  life.  Birds 
came  back.  There  were  ducks  and  geese  and 
gulls  for  food.  The  seal  basked  on  the  rocks 
in  the  sunshine.  They  spied  walruses  and 
narwhals.  A  white  bear  crossed  the  ice  one 
day,  but  too  far  away  for  an  attempt  at  cap- 
ture. 

Hudson  began  his  preparations  for  depar- 
ture. Throughout  the  long  winter  he  had 
employed  his  leisure  hours  by  many  schemes. 
A  terrible  obstacle  faced  him.  The  wanton 
destruction  of  their  storehouse  in  that  one 
night  long  ago  had  ruined  his  provisions. 
He  set  the  men  to  salting  and  jerking  meat, 
but  it  was  absurd  to  think  of  laying  in  suffi- 
cient to  last  so  large  a  number  throughout  a 
further  extended  voyage.  Many  a  time  he 
bitterly  reproached  himself  that  he  had  re- 
moved the  stock  from  the  ship.  But  it  had 
not  been  at  all  certain  that  the  vessel,  locked 
in  the  ice,  would  ride  out  the  winter.  It  had 
appeared  to  be  the  part  of  prudence  to  take 
everything  necessary  with  them  to  land. 


MUTINY  297 

The  crew,  busily  employed  in  the  bright 
sunshine,  kept  their  heads  together,  muttering 
what,  their  lowering  faces  hinted,  boded  no 
good  to  some  one.  At  last  the  storm  broke. 

Hudson  called  all  hands  together  on  board 
the  ship.  A  boat  was  plying  back  and  forth 
between  it  and  the  shore,  where  an  impromptu 
kitchen  was  built.  Every  one  hastened  to 
the  deck.  Their  leader's  views  were  shrewdly 
surmised,  yet  he  had  taken  no  one  into  his 
confidence.  He  looked  into  a  semicircle  of 
scowling  countenances.  Jan  and  Giles  were 
the  only  two  who  responded  cheerfully  to  the 
invitation  for  a  conference.  Harry  stood  be- 
side his  father,  whose  hand  rested  upon  the 
boy's  shoulder. 

"  You  know  already,  men,"  the  captain  be- 
gan in  Dutch,  "  why  we  have  come  to  this 
land  of  desolation ;  what  we  hope  to  find  be- 
fore we  go  back  to  our  homes.  Every  other 
consideration  must  give  way  to  the  one  of 
accomplishing  our  purpose.  Now,  how  may 
we  set  about  that  further  exploration  ?  We 
were  provided  with  what,  by  strict  economy, 
might  have  sufficed  for  food.  Since  we  have 
lost  that  supply,  we  are  laying  in  stores  that 
will  keep  a  dozen  men,  perhaps,  from  starva- 
tion for  "  — 


298  IN   THE  BRAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

He  was  interrupted  by  a  murmur  that  rose 
among  the  men,  and  swelled  into  a  roar  of 
protest. 

"  A  dozen  men  ?  "  repeated  Hessel. 

Hudson  saw  his  mistake.  He  should  have 
introduced  his  scheme  by  degrees,  and  have 
left  the  settling  of  its  details  to  those  chiefly 
concerned.  Jan,  also,  grasped  the  situation. 
He  stepped  forward. 

"  Captain  Hudson,"  he  began  in  his  clear, 
ringing  voice,  "  I  will  be  the  first  to  volun- 
teer. I  will  stay  behind." 

Giles  had  been  listening,  with  bent  brows, 
to  what  was  half  unintelligible  to  him  in  the 
foreign  tongue.  He  did  not  know  at  all  what 
Jan  meant.  He  had  no  idea  to  what  he 
pledged  himself.  But  he  felt  certain  that 
his  friend's  agreement  was  right  and  fair. 
Wherever  Jan  went  he  should  follow.  He 
strode  to  the  side  of  the  young  Dutchman. 

"  And  so  will  I,"  he  said. 

Hudson  glanced  at  the  others.  Not  one 
moved.  Hessel  growled  protestingly  to  the 
lads :  —  • 

"  What  will  become  of  you  if  you  do  re- 
main here  ?  Are  you  contented  never  to 
quit  this  spot  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Jan  loudly.     He  assumed 


MUTINY  299 

a  confidence  he  did  not  feel.  "We  shall 
make  our  way  southward  overland.  We  shall 
not  be  unarmed  entirely."  For  he  perceived 
that  the  rest  were  thinking,  as  he  was  then,  of 
the  scanty  ammunition.  "  There  are  whalers 
along  the  coast.  There  are  settlements  of  the 
French  "  — 

"  And  the  Spanish,"  interrupted  some  one, 
with  a  hoarse  laugh. 

"  Yes,  and  the  Spanish,  thousands  of  miles 
away.  Even  though  we  fall  in  with  no  white 
men,  we  deserve  to  die  if  we  cannot  find  a 
living  in  that  fertile  land  that  Hessel,  at  least, 
remembers,  no  less  than  Valentine  and  I.  We 
deserve  to  die,"  —  his  tones  pealed  out  like  a 
trumpet,  —  "  if  we  are  not  willing  to  do  this 
for  our  captain,  and  for  the  common  good." 

The  men  looked  doggedly  at  one  another, 
and  then  towards  him.  Hessel's  features 
worked  nervously. 

"  I  do  remember  that  land,"  he  said  mean- 
ingly, catching  the  expression  of  Jan's  speak- 
ing eyes.  "  I  would  be  willing  to  cast  in  my 
lot  with  you  two  younkers,  but  the  thing  is 
impossible  !  A  dozen  men  could  not  live  in 
such  a  march  without  provisions,  nor  the 
means  of  finding  more.  We  have  been 
brought  thus  far  by  our  commander.  I,  for 


300  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

one,  say  that  it  is  his  duty  to  get  us  out  of 
the  fix  he  has  got  us  into." 

"  How  shall  he  do  it  ?  "  asked  Jan. 

Hessel  was  their  appointed  spokesman.  No 
one  else  said  a  word.  He  looked  rather  taken 
aback  by  Jan's  blunt  query.  It  was  easier  to 
find  fault  with  others'  arrangements  than  to 
make  them  for  one's  self. 

Hudson  walked  towards  them.  His  head 
was  held  haughtily  aloft.  Such  plain  speech, 
such  criticism  of  his  methods,  such  symptoms 
of  insubordination,  were  abhorrent  to  him. 
He  had  deemed  it  best  to  let  them  talk 
the  thing  out  freely.  He  thought  now  that 
enough  had  been  said. 

"  I  regret,"  he  began  scornfully,  "  that  my 
views  do  not  chime  in  with  those  of  my  crew. 
Let  it  be  understood  that,  whether  it  is  your 
will  or  no,  twelve  of  us  leave  this  place  by 
ship.  Thirteen  take  the  landward  path. 
Twelve  go  to  the  east,  if  the  Lord  will. 
Thirteen  are  sent  —  and  God  speed  them  — 
back  to  their  homes.  And  now  to  your 
work." 

He  gave  a  further  rapid  order  in  regard  to 
the  labors  in  which  they  were  all  engaged. 
His  manner  was  that  of  finally  closing  the 
matter.  There  was  to  be  no  appeal. 


MUTINY  301 

Not  a  man  stirred. 

Hudson  raised  his  eyebrows.  A  sneer 
crossed  his  lips.  He  repeated  his  order. 

Sixteen  men  stepped  quietly  out  from  the 
semicircle.  Four,  moving  like  parts  of  a  ma- 
chine, went  to  their  appointed  places.  Four 
to  one,  they  seized  Hudson,  his  son,  and 
Giles  and  Jan.  They  were  prisoners,  gagged 
and  bound. 

The  crew  had  mutinied.  Their  long-brood- 
ing grievance  was  ready  for  instant  action, 
and  the  action  had  been  taken. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

ADRIFT    WITH    HUDSON 

THE  prisoners  were  separated  and  conveyed 
to  different  parts  of  the  ship.  It  was  impos- 
sible for  them  to  confer  together.  They 
could  not  devise  any  concerted  scheme  for  es- 
cape or  opposition. 

It  was  late  in  the  day,  counting  by  hours, 
not  by  sunshine.  The  men  went  in  squads  to 
their  dinner  on  land,  leaving  always  a  full 
contingent  to  watch  the  vessel.  Under  less 
serious  circumstances,  Giles  and  Jan  would 
have  been  flattered  by  the  fear  manifested 
that  they  might  effect  something,  —  two 
against  twenty-one.  Food  and  water  were 
brought  to  them;  the  bandages  across  their 
mouths  were  removed,  and  each  was  asked  if 
he  would  change  his  mind,  give  in  to  the  will 
of  the  majority,  and  abide  by  its  decrees. 

No  one  inquired  for  little  Harry's  opinion. 
His  father  and  the  two  youths  made  a  firm 
refusal. 

When  bedtime  came,  the  same  precautions 


ADRIFT  WITH  HUDSON  303 

were  adopted.  Ten  men  slept,  and  ten  watched 
the  ship.  One  patrolled  the  beach  as  usual, 
watching  their  stores  of  food. 

"  Valentine  !  "  whispered  a  voice  close  to 
Giles's  ear.  "  Valentine,  are  you  awake  ?  " 

Giles  tried  to  nod  his  head.  The  gag  was 
taken  from  his  mouth.  Hessel  sat  down  beside 
him.  The  other  men  were  detailed,  as  in 
this  instance,  two  to  a  man.  Hessel's  compan- 
ion paced  back  and  forth  several  yards  away. 

"  I  want  to  reason  with  you,"  said  the 
Dutchman.  "  You  see  how  this  matter  is 
going.  You  can't  do  the  captain  any  good." 

"  What  is  to  become  of  him  ?  " 

"  He  and  his  son  will  be  set  adrift  in  the 
long  boat." 

Giles  shuddered.     "  And  Verrooy  and  I  ?  " 

"  You  go  with  us,  or  with  them." 

"  You  keep  to  the  ship,  I  suppose  ?  " 

«  Yes." 

Giles  rolled  over  on  his  side.  He  could 
not  think  of  the  Dutch  equivalent,  so  he  mur- 
mured sleepily,  "  Bon  voyage  !  " 

"  Do  you  mean  that  you  hold  to  Hudson  ?  " 

"  I  mean,"  —  he  raised  himself  on  his  el- 
bow to  explain,  —  "  that  I  ship  with  a  captain 
for  the  entire  voyage.  I  shall  go  in  the 
boat." 


304  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

Hessel's  brown  cheek  grew  red  under  the 
taunt.  "  What  if  the  captain  would  leave 
you  behind  ?  " 

"  It  is  he,  not  I,  that  orders  it.  My  part 
of  the  contract  is  performed." 

The  Dutchman  moved  uneasily.  "  That  is 
what  Verrooy  said." 

"  Aha  !  you  have  been  experimenting  with 
Jan  ?  " 

"  Yes.     He  is  as  obstinate  as  yourself." 

"  So  I  supposed,"  said  Giles  calmly,  and  lay 
down  again. 

Hessel  lifted  the  bandage.  He  stooped 
over  the  boy,  holding  the  strip  in  his  hand. 
"  You  know  what  Hudson's  fate  will  be  ?  " 

"  I  know :  starvation  and  torture  from 
thirst,  —  slow  death." 

"  And  you  choose  it  ?  " 

Giles's  German  was  a  shade  worse  than  his 
Dutch.  However,  he  looked  steadily  into 
Hessel's  remorseful  face  and  quoted  Martin 
Luther's  declaration :  — 

"  Here  I  stand.  I  can  do  nothing  else. 
God  help  me  !  " 

Hessel  moved  away. 

Another  meal  was  brought  to  them.  They 
were  lifted  in  the  arms  of  the  guard  and  car- 
ried to  the  vessel's  rail.  The  four  met  for 


ADRIFT   WITH  HUDSON 

the  first  time  since  their  arrest.  They  glanced 
manfully  at  one  another.  Even  Harry  wore  a 
courageous  look.  His  father  was  defiant  and 
indignant,  but  his  high  demeanor  vanished  at 
sight  of  his  champions.  They  were  ungagged 
and  unbound.  Hudson  found  occasion  to  say 
to  Jan,  who  stood  beside  him  :  — 

"  Lad,  thou  shalt  not  be  sacrificed,  too  ! 
Save  thyself." 

"  Nay,  captain,"  was  the  serene  answer. 
"  Methinks  Giles  and  I  are  agreed." 

"  There  may  be  a  middle  course." 

Hudson  understood  what  fate  was  prepared 
for  him.  He  saw  the  boat,  its  stock  of  dried 
fish  and  its  can  of  water,  ready  for  its  occu- 
pants. He  bore  his  doom  like  a  hero,  although 
he  had  stooped  to  ask  mercy  for  his  son.  It 
was  refused,  and  yet  he  tried  once  more  for 
these  boys. 

"  Set  Verrooy  and  Valentine  ashore,"  he 
pleaded  aside  with  Hessel.  "  Give  them  some 
chance  for  their  lives.  If  they  will  not  ship 
with  you,  surely  they  need  not  be  set  adrift 
with  me." 

Hessel  looked  ten  years  older  in  the  past 
twenty-four  hours. 

"  I  would  give  my  right  hand,"  he  an- 
swered, "  to  save  Giles  Valentine.  I  have 


306  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

implored  the  rest  to  let  them  wander  south  if 
they  could ;  they  might  reach  some  bark  or 
a  settlement,  as  Verrooy  said.  But  the  others 
are  afraid  of  that.  They  want  no  tales  told 
of  what  happens  here.  It  must  be  either  the 
ship  or  the  boat  for  them.  There  is  no 
alternative." 

He  spoke  loud  enough  for  the  boys  to  hear. 
He  looked  urgently  into  their  faces.  Giles 
exchanged  one  glance  with  his  friend. 

"  It  is  the  boat,"  they  said  in  a  breath. 

The  crew  approached  the  little  group.  One 
by  one  they  were  conducted  into  their  frail 
refuge.  Hudson  seated  himself  in  the  stern. 
Harry  clambered  into  the  bow.  Giles  and 
Jan  picked  up  their  oars.  From  their  manner 
one  might  have  thought  they  were  departing 
for  a  pleasure  trip.  The  rope  was  cast  off. 
They  were  left  to  themselves. 

Hudson  steered  to  the  northeast.  It  made 
small  difference  in  which  direction  they  went, 
he  said.  The  end  was  inevitable.  Yet  me- 
chanically the  old  captain  strove  still  towards 
the  goal  of  his  ambition,  —  the  strait  that 
should  bear  him  to  the  open  sea,  the  ocean 
which  carried  on  its  breast  the  secret  of 
another  road  to  Asia. 

The  boys  plied  their  oars  only  to  keep  the 


ADRIFT  WITH  HUDSON  307 

keel  steady.  There  was  no  need  for  exertion. 
They  would  require  all  their  strength.  Four 
muskets,  a  few  shot  and  a  little  powder  lay 
rolled  in  a  blanket  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat. 
Hudson  surveyed  their  provision,  portioning 
it  out.  It  might  last  a  fortnight. 

"  Lads," — his  voice  was  animated,  —  "  sup- 
pose we  try  the  strait  in  earnest  ?  We  might 
run  across  a  ship  outside.  Which  shall  it  be  ? 
Here  we  have  a  shadow  of  a  chance  of  getting 
to  land ;  or  there  are  these  innumerable  is- 
lands, if  we  are  minded  to  cast  ourselves  away 
on  one  of  them.  On  the  sea  we  may  have  an 
opportunity  of  sighting  a  sail.  Choose  !  " 

"  Do  you  vote  for  the  ocean  ?  "  asked  Giles. 

"  Aye.  I  should  risk  it  for  myself  and  my 
boy." 

"  I  take  the  risk  for  myself,"  said  Jan,  after 
a  little  reflection.  "  The  landing,  could  we 
make  it,  would  mayhap  only  draw  out  our 
sufferings.  What  think' st  thou,  Giles  ?  " 

"  The  ocean,  say  I." 

They  kept  on  their  course  towards  the 
strait.  They  ate  and  drank,  told  Harry  tales 
to  amuse  him,  wrapped  the  boy  in  his  father's 
cloak,  and  saw  him  sleeping  peacefully  as  if 
he  were  at  home,  with  his  head  against  Hud- 
son's knee. 


308  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

They  slept,  themselves,  from  sheer  exhaus- 
tion, when  they  were  utterly  worn  out.  They 
took  turns  at  the  oar.  As  the  long  hours  went 
by,  the  necessity  for  husbanding  their  strength 
became  more  apparent.  They  watched  and 
worked,  and  worked  and  watched.  Harry 
demanded  his  share  of  the  labor  and  respon- 
sibility. Hudson  said  that  they  could  trust 
him  absolutely.  The  fatal  close  to  this  haz- 
ardous journey  came  from  the  father's  faith 
in  his  child. 

He  and  his  son  were  rowing  the  boat. 
Giles  and  Jan  were  asleep.  The  captain  was 
giving  out  under  the  protracted  strain.  He 
closed  his  eyelids  over  the  motion  that  had 
become  a  matter  of  habit.  A  wild  cry  from 
the  boy  roused  him.  The  sleepers  started 
up. 

Harry's  right  arm  was  rigid,  he  was  pale 
as  death.  His  hand  pointed  towards  the 
north.  They  were  in  the  strait,  where,  even 
at  midsummer,  ice  is  a  constant  menace  to 
navigation.  A  berg  was  bearing  down  upon 
them.  They  were  drifting  directly  in  its 
path. 

Giles  tore  the  oars  from  the  boy's  lax  fingers. 
It  was  hopeless  to  flee  from  the  monster,  and 
yet  action  —  any  action  —  was  preferable  to 


ADRIFT  WITH  HUDSON  309 

sitting  still  under  its  approach.  Hudson  bent 
to  the  task.  The  little  craft  flew  over  the 
water.  Jan  took  the  rudder,  directing  their 
movements.  Harry  crawled  to  the  bow,  where 
he  crouched,  calling  hysterically  from  time  to 
time :  — 

"  Here  it  comes.  It  is  on  top  of  us.  No  ! 
Yes  !  We  are  doomed  !  " 

It  was  like  the  repetition  of  a  silly  song. 
Jan  fastened  his  eyes  on  the  object  of  their 
terror,  watching  the  crumbling  pieces  that 
fell  from  it  with  loud  reports  into  the  sea. 
So  they  rode  on  the  waves  for  a  time  that, 
measured  by  seconds,  was  short,  but,  from  the 
beating  of  their  frightened  hearts,  seemed  to 
stretch  out  into  eternity. 

A  sound  rent  the  air  that  was  like  the  bel- 
lowing of  a  hundred  cannon.  The  boat  was 
lifted  from  the  water,  as  if  a  volcano  had 
burst  forth  beneath  the  sea.  One  side  of  the 
iceberg,  thousands  of  tons  in  weight,  had  split 
from  the  rest  and  dropped  into  the  ocean. 
They  were  carried  up  —  it  seemed  to  the  very 
sky.  They  fell,  boat  and  men,  back  into  the 
gulfing  waves. 

A  tremendous  sea  was  raised.  White  crests, 
set  on  green  slopes  of  water,  tore  after  the 
rushing  mountain  in  its  progress.  The  vessel 


310  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

was  smashed,  between  water  and  ice,  into  in- 
finitesimal fragments,  which  were  hurled  to 
the  winds  and  away. 

Giles  knew  nothing  more  for  a  time  after 
that  instant  when  he  was  propelled,  like  a 
shot  from  a  gun,  out  into  the  air.  He  came 
to  his  senses  with  a  feeling  of  intense,  creep- 
ing cold;  not  the  drowsiness  that  comes  from 
freezing,  but  the  sharp  ache  that  precedes  it. 
He  recovered  his  wits  with  a  shudder.  He 
was  lying  upon  a  floe  of  ice.  The  tumult 
was  subsiding,  yet  the  violence  of  the  waves 
was  still  such  that  the  ice  about  him  was 
rocked  by  its  force.  He  heard  ominous  cracks 
in  all  directions.  He  sprang  upright,  peering 
about  him  for  a  sight  of  the  others.  Nothing 
was  to  be  seen  but  water,  ice,  and  sky. 

He  looked  for  a  safer  foothold.  Another 
floating  expanse  was  unbroken  and  promised 
comparative  security.  He  could  see  the  rem- 
nants of  the  berg  plunging  about  in  the  dis- 
tance, its  balance  disturbed  by  the  crash. 
Masses  broke  from  its  sides :  the  roar  of  their 
fall  was  carried  across  the  waves.  A  mist 
shrouded  the  awful  view.  Giles  listened  and 
looked,  bent  double  in  his  abstracted  search 
for  sign  of  his  comrades. 

What  was  that  to  the  south  ? 


ADRIFT  WITH  HUDSON  311 

He  sprang  over  one  fragment  of  ice  to  an- 
other, gazing  back  and  forth,  first  at  that 
uncertain  southern  line  that  he  dared  not 
name,  even  to  himself,  then  at  his  feet  to 
guard  his  steps.  There  was  cause  for  caution. 
The  least  misstep  in  these  movements  from 
one  swaying  piece  to  another  would  mean 
death  by  drowning  or  by  being  ground  to 
bits  in  the  ice. 

The  line  to  the  south  became  more  and 
more  distinct.  It  was  the  rocky  coast  of  the 
land.  Giles  took  another  survey  of  his  sur- 
roundings. He  felt  that  he  could  not  try  to 
reach  the  shore  until  every  doubt  was  re- 
moved as  to  the  others'  fate.  Far  to  his 
right,  upon  another  floating  cake,  he  made 
out  faintly  a  black  speck  against  the  white. 
It  was  not  a  seabird  stopped  to  rest,  for  it 
did  not  move.  He  made  his  tedious,  difficult 
way  in  its  direction.  The  water  became 
calmer ;  passage  over  the  crevices  was  less  dif- 
ficult, although  far  from  easy.  The  speck 
grew  to  the  shape  of  a  man,  and  he  hastened 
on.  It  never  stirred.  Finally,  Giles  began 
to  call  at  the  top  of  his  lungs. 

Were  any  of  the  three  —  Hudson,  Harry, 
or  Jan  —  saved  too,  he  might  know  by  this 
halloo  that  there  was  another  survivor.  .They 


312  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

might  seek  each  other  until  they  came  to- 
gether. He  shrieked  their  names  out  into 
the  terrible  desolation.  No  answering  cry 
came  to  him.  But  the  figure  moved.  He 
saw  a  man  stagger  to  an  upright  position. 
He  came  closer.  The  man  shaded  his  eyes 
with  one  hand.  The  sun  dispersed  the  mist, 
shining  fully  into  Giles's  face.  For  a  moment 
everything  was  black  before  him.  He  gave 
a  sob  of  thanksgiving,  for  he  had  recognized 
Jan. 

The  two  friends  rushed  together  heedless 
of  the  perilous  path,  of  everything  save  that 
they  had  found  one  another  again.  They  fell 
on  their  knees,  with  a  prayer  of  gratitude 
upon  their  lips.  Neither  knew  anything  of 
Hudson  nor  of  his  son :  from  that  day  to 
this  their  fate  has  been  a  mystery.  It  is 
almost  certain  that  they  were  swallowed  up 
in  the  waves,  but  no  man  saw  them  die.  Jan 
had  struggled  from  the  water  to  the  ice  only 
to  be  again  tossed  off  it  by  another  mighty 
wave.  His  head  was  badly  cut  and  he  must 
have  fainted,  when  he  once  more  climbed  up 
on  the  floe.  He  said  Giles's  shout  came  to 
him  from  out  a  sweet  dream  of  home.  He 
opened  his  eyes  to  the  hard  realities  that 
faced  them. 


ADRIFT  WITH  HUDSON  313 

It  was  a  long  tramp,  and  they  were  scarcely 
equal  to  it,  over  the  broken  ice  to  that  which 
stretched  out  from  the  shore.  At  length  they 
reached  it,  crossed  slowly  its  glassy  surface, 
climbed  along  the  rough  scraps  that  were 
piled  up  next  the  beach,  then  to  the  rocks 
beyond,  and  finally  came  to  a  patch  of  moss 
upon  which  they  fell,  exhausted. 

They  were  ashore  upon  a  barren  plateau 
between  a  small  hill  and  a  tall,  black  cliff. 
The  wind  raged  pitilessly  across  the  ice.  The 
cold,  dark  water  chilled  their  wet  bodies  to 
the  bone.  Snow  drifted  through  the  ravine. 
Yet  the  sun  was  warm,  and  this  snow  was, 
only  brought  upon  the  tempest.  It  was 
summer  after  all,  though  an  Arctic  summer. 
They  felt  that,  now  they  had  arrived  at  dry 
land  and  were  reunited,  they  should  not  de- 
spair whatever  befell  them. 

"  The  first  thing  is  to  make  a  fire,"  ob- 
served Giles.  "  And  the  second  is  to  find 
something  to  eat." 

"  I  think  the  second  comes  first,"  suggested 
Jan.  "  Cold  though  I  am,  I  am  hungry,  too, 
and  I  see  a  bird's  nest  in  a  fissure  of  the 
rocks.  What  do  you  say  to  a  half  dozen 
eggs  ?  They  will  give  us  strength  to  discuss 
our  further  proceedings." 


314  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

The  eggs  were  gathered  and  swallowed. 
Then  they  sat  down  to  strike  a  light  from 
their  knives  and  a  bit  of  flint.  Stunted  wil- 
lows grew  along  the  stream  that  found  the 
ocean  here.  They  pulled  the  fluff  from  the 
downy  blossoms  and  made  a  little  pile.  Over 
this  they  worked  until  spark  after  spark  had 
fallen  and  ignited.  They  fed  the  flash  to  a 
blaze  with  tendrils  of  dry  moss.  At  last  they 
had  a  fire. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

FROM    BAY    TO    RIVER 

THEY  sat  by  the  roaring  fire,  drying  their 
drenched  clothing  and  talking  over  the  fu- 
ture. 

"  We  must  get  to  the  south,"  said  Giles. 
"  And  still,  how  are  we  to  make  the  journey  ? 
We  have  no  arms  except  our  knives  ;  no  food, 
nor  any  method  of  transporting  it.  The  days 
will  soon  be  shortening.  Do  you  suppose 
that  it  would  be  possible  for  us  to  reach  a 
settlement,  either  of  Indians  or  of  French 
traders,  before  winter  ?  " 

"  No,"  answered  Jan  candidly.  "  I  am 
afraid  it  is  out  of  the  question.  I  should 
think  the  best  thing  we  could  do  would  be  to 
build  a  hut  here,  where  we  have  the  mate- 
rials ;  to  lay  in  provisions,  and  make  ourselves 
knapsacks  of  sealskin  for  next  spring's  march. 
We  should  be  able  to  smoke  and  salt  some 
food,  perhaps  sufficient,  with  what  we  could 
fish  and  trap  along  the  route,  —  I  take  for 
granted  we  would  follow  the  stream  as  far  as 


316  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

we  could,  —  to  keep  us  from  actual  starvation 
until  we  fell  in  with  some  human  beings." 

It  was  not  a  brilliant  prospect,  yet  it  was 
distinctly  the  best  plan  that  they  could  make. 
Their  hearts  sank  at  the  notion  of  at  least  four 
months  of  total  darkness,  buried  in  this  dreary 
land.  However,  they  said  nothing-  to  dispirit 
one  another,  and  set  to  work  diligently  while 
they  had  light  to  pursue  their  tasks.  They 
took  a  survey  of  their  surroundings,  finding 
very  little  vegetation,  —  a  few  small,  pale 
flowers,  and  patches  of  moss  and  grass,  a 
waste  of  jagged  rocks,  and  the  high,  frown- 
ing cliffs.  The  willows  were  of  the  dwarf 
variety,  the  trunk  not  larger  than  a  lead  pen- 
cil, the  slender  branches  trailing  upon  the 
earth.  A  dry-leaved  plant  that  grew  among 
the  rocks,  a  sort  of  heather,  furnished  them 
with  part  of  their  fuel.  Moreover,  the  beds 
of  dried  moss  were  practically  inexhaustible, 
for  their  depth  was  beyond  all  discovering. 
This  was  material  for  a  blaze  rather  than  a 
steady,  glowing  heat.  There  was  a  dead  seal 
upon  the  beach,  and  a  narwhal  was  cast  up 
on  the  ice  within  walking  distance,  not  long 
after  the  boys'  arrival  here.  The  blubber,  no 
less  than  the  meat  and  skin,  was  so  necessary 
to  them  that  they  lost  no  time  in  hacking  and 


FROM  BAY  TO  RIVER  317 

cutting  —  it  was  slow,  hard  work  —  the  two 
bodies  into  pieces  for  their  future  use. 

They  were  bothered  by  foxes  that  hung 
about  the  place,  on  the  watch  for  something 
to  seize  and  carry  off.  One  of  the  boys  was 
always  on  guard  beside  the  meat  until  they 
could  dissever  it  and  carry  it  into  the  stone 
hut  they  built,  cementing  the  rocks  with  mud 
and  moss.  Against  the  only  opening  was 
placed  a  slab,  too  heavy  to  be  rolled  away  by 
anything  not  gifted  with  hands. 

They  caught  a  number  of  ducks  by  a 
spring  trap  that  Jan  constructed  of  loose 
stones  among  the  rocks.  The  narwhal  and 
the  seal  produced  an  enormous  heap  of  blub- 
ber. The  boys  were  obliged  to  store  cakes  of 
ice  with  it,  lest  it  spoil  before  winter  came. 
They  had  quantities  of  seal  meat,  and  many 
birds  that  were  laid  away  with  the  fat.  They 
saw  that  they  need  not  fear  for  the  immediate 
future.  The  preparation  of  food  for  their 
journey  was  the  most  pressing  need,  after  both 
storehouse  and  hut  for  themselves  had  been 
erected  from  the  rocks  and  stones. 

Many  a  time  the  two  boys  remembered  those 
words  of  Prince  Maurice  :  that  no  sort  of  use- 
ful knowledge  was  superfluous  to  a  pioneer. 
The  information  they  had  gathered  by  their 


318  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

glimpses  of  Indian  and  Esquimau  life,  and 
their  experiences  during  the  past  winter  with 
Hudson,  all  came  into  play.  They  made  ves- 
sels of  soapstone,  and  lined  them  with  dry 
moss,  pouring  oil  over  that.  They  constructed 
a  tunnel  to  their  new  home,  pinning  duck- 
skins  together  with  bits  of  bone  to  make  a 
curtain  at  the  entrance. 

There  is  always  a  pleasure  in  surmounting 
difficulties.  It  was  not  the  dull  winter  that 
they  had  dreaded.  They  used  to  laugh  to- 
gether over  their  triumphs  or  their  failures  ; 
they  found  something  to  do  each  day,  and 
they  looked  for  spring  and  talked  of  home  as 
hopefully  as  if  no  doubt  lurked  in  either  mind 
that  the  nearing  expedition  would  prove  suc- 
cessful. 

Then  the  sunshine  appeared,  growing  longer 
and  stronger  every  day.  There  must  be  haste 
now.  The  boys  turned  their  backs  upon  this 
shelter,  not  without  some  homesickness  for 
the  safety  it  afforded.  Their  equipment  was 
crude.  They  carried  skin  bags,  filled  with 
strips  of  preserved  meats,  on  their  shoulders. 
They  had  bows  and  arrows  of  flexible  bone 
strung  with  sinews  of  the  narwhal,  fish-lines 
and  hooks  of  the  same  manufacture ;  they 
owned  their  knives,  and  Giles,  the  narwhal's 


FROM  BAY  TO  RIVER  319 

horn,  Jan,  a  sort  of  spear  they  had  fashioned 
by  lashing  bits  of  bone  together. 

They  kept  along  the  river  bank,  sleeping 
wherever  their  strength  gave  out,  and  they 
found  they  could  make  no  further  progress 
for  the  time.  But  they  pushed  endurance  to 
its  utmost  limits.  If  they  were  overtaken  by 
the  winter  night,  they  knew  that  this  would 
be  the  last  sun  they  should  ever  see.  They 
caught  some  fish.  They  shot  a  few  birds 
with  their  improvised  arrows ;  and  sometimes 
the  trap,  which  they  invariably  set  before  they 
went  to  sleep,  was  found  to  contain  a  captive 
when  they  woke.  The  long  march  was  not  so 
terrible  to  face  as  it  had  been  in  anticipation. 
Water  never  failed  them  in  that  region  of  lakes 
and  rivers.  They  were  guided  by  the  sound, 
and  kept  strictly  to  the  course  of  some  stream. 

One  day  an  arrow  whistled  past  their  ears 
as  they  were  skirting  a  thickly  wooded  island 
out  in  the  river  that  now  led  them  south. 
They  stood  still  to  hearken.  The  splash  of 
a  distant  paddle  was  heard.  They  saw  no- 
thing ;  there  was  no  further  sound. 

"  We  are  getting  into  the  region  of  human 
life,"  said  Jan.  "  I  should  think  it  might 
welcome  us  more  kindly.  We  must  be  on  the 
lookout  henceforth,  Giles,  for  Indian  foes." 


320  IN  THE  BRAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

"  Or  friends,"  was  the  comment.  "  If  we 
should  fall  in  with  any  Algonquins  like  those 
on  the  river  Hudson  discovered,  I  should  ex- 
pect Winona's  totem  to  help  us.  But  it  is  not 
agreeable,  is  it,  to  walk  in  constant  fear  of  an 
arrow  better  aimed  than  by  yonder  archer." 

They  were  not  molested  again  in  any  man- 
ner during  that  day  nor  the  next.  Then 
they  entered  a  great  forest,  the  first  they  had 
encountered,  although  trees  had  become  more 
abundant  for  some  time  past.  There  was  a 
well-defined  path  to  lead  them.  The  pines 
sighed  through  the  waving  branches.  The 
day  was  overcast.  The  clouded  sun  did  not 
affect  the  solemn  shadows  of  this  vast  wood. 

A  long-drawn,  unearthly  wail  broke  the 
stillness.  It  was  like  nothing  human.  It 
seemed  the  cry  of  a  lost  soul. 

"  That  was  no  wild  beast !  "  said  Giles. 

"  Hush  !     I  hear  footsteps." 

They  drew  aside  into  the  underbrush.  A 
thicket  hid  them  from  sight.  They  could  now 
see  a  long  line  of  men  advancing.  The  pro- 
cession bore  litters,  on  which  motionless  forms 
were  stretched  under  coverings  of  fur.  Some 
of  them  carried  bundles  swung  over  their 
backs.  At  intervals  the  same  long,  low  cry 
they  had  heard  before  was  uttered. 


FROM  13 AY  TO  RIVER  321 

"  Shall  we  join  them  ?  "  muttered  Giles. 

Jan's  face  indicated  indecision.  It  ap- 
peared to  be  safest  to  keep  out  of  sight  and 
let  them  pass  without  parley.  The  following 
morning  they  met  another  such  party,  and 
another  that  afternoon.  When  it  lost  its  first 
weirdness,  they  grew  bolder.  Stepping  out 
from  their  hiding-place,  they  addressed  the 
foremost  men  by  propitiatory  gestures. 

The  Indians  looked  surprised,  although  not 
so  shocked  as  those  whom  the  Half  Moon  had 
found.  These  were  accustomed  to  white  men 
from  traditions  of  the  fishing-boats  along  the 
coast,  while  some  of  them  had  seen  the  traders 
at  their  posts.  They  consulted  together,  point- 
ing to  the  two  youths,  gesticulating  wildly, 
though  whether  in  friendship  or  enmity  the 
boys  could  not  decide.  Finally  one  of  them 
approached  the  strangers,  his  companions  on 
the  alert  for  any  sign  of  bad  faith.  He  spoke 
to  them  in  French. 

Jan's  face  glowed  with  pleasure.  They 
could  assuredly  prove  their  innocent  inten- 
tions if  they  could  make  themselves  under- 
stood. He  told  their  story  rapidly.  The 
Indian  shook  his  head.  He  was  no  adept  in 
the  foreign  tongue.  Jan  repeated  his  state- 
ment very  slowly,  using  only  a  few  and  simple 


322  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

words.  The  man  smiled,  wheeled  about,  and 
retailed  what  he  had  heard.  There  was  a 
further  discussion. 

Then  the  interpreter  announced  their  deci- 
sion. The  white  men  could  accompany  them ; 
afterwards  they  would  be  carried  back  to  the 
great  river  —  the  St.  Lawrence  —  and  sent  to 
the  fort  that  Champlain  had  established  near 
what  is  now  Quebec.  This  they  would  do  if, 
for  their  part,  Jan  and  Giles  would  turn  over 
to  them  their  knives  and  bows  and  spears. 
They  were  to  be  quite  unarmed. 

It  was  an  appalling  risk,  yet  there  appeared 
to  be  no  alternative.  They  consulted  to- 
gether. These  were  Hurons,  perhaps  at  war 
with  Winona's  people.  It  might  harm  their 
interests,  rather  than  advance  them,  to  show 
the  Algonquin's  stone.  They  were  placing 
their  lives  absolutely  in  the  Indians'  power. 
Still,  after  all,  they  were  at  their  mercy,  with 
no  fighting  strength,  if  they  kept  their  wea- 
pons. So  they  surrendered  what  they  car- 
ried, and  took  their  place  beside  the  interpre- 
ter in  the  ranks. 

The  procession  moved  on,  while  he  told  its 
purpose  to  the  boys.  The  dead  of  the  four 
nations,  after  a  funeral  service,  were  laid 
upon  a  scaffold,  or,  occasionally,  in  a  tempo- 


FROM  BAY  TO  RIVER  323 

rary  grave.  Every  ten  or  twelve  years  the 
bodies  were  gathered  together  and  conveyed 
to  a  common  sepulchre.  They  were  upon 
their  way  to  the  meeting  place,  Ossossane,  the 
chief  village  of  the  Hurons. 

Finally  they  emerged  upon  the  spot,  a 
clearing  of  several  acres  in  the  pine  forest  that 
swept  to  the  borders  of  Nottawassaga  Bay. 
The  town  lay  at  a  little  distance  on  the  bank 
of  the  water.  It  consisted  of  a  number  of 
bark  houses,  well  constructed,  and  now  filled 
with  visitors.  Fires  gleamed  through  the 
trees.  Maidens  and  youths  were  shooting  at 
a  target  for  prizes  the  mourners  offered  in 
the  name  of  the  dead. 

The  bags  of  bones  or  the  bodies  which  had 
been  borne  on  the  litters  were  suspended 
from  the  rafters  in  the  houses.  Some  of  them 
were  done  up  in  rolls,  decorated  with  beads 
and  feathers.  These  were  taken  down  when 
the  day  of  burial  came,  and  were  lamented 
over  by  the  women,  the  awful  screams  —  sup- 
posed to  imitate  the  farewell  of  the  departing 
soul  —  resounding  through  the  woods. 

Processions  were  re-formed.  Each  carried 
its  own  dead  to  a  place  appointed  for  it  on 
the  outskirts  of  the  clearing.  The  bodies 
were  placed  upon  the  ground.  Funeral  gifts, 


824  IN   THE  BRAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

many  of  them  the  richest  furs,  were  spread 
out  to  be  examined  and  admired.  Fires  were 
lighted,  and  food  was  cooked.  It  was  the 
most  uncanny  of  festivals.  As  the  sun  de- 
clined, the  gifts  were  rolled  into  packages,  the 
bodies  were  lifted  to  the  bearers'  shoulders. 

A  chief  gave  a  signal.  The  throng  pressed 
forward  from  every  side  to  a  scaffolding  in 
the  midst  of  the  clearing.  On  this  were  fas- 
tened many  upright  and  cross  poles.  Under- 
neath it  yawned  a  wide,  deep  grave.  The 
Indians  swarmed  up  the  ladders  to  the  plat- 
form. Chiefs  standing  on  it  called  to  the 
crowd  praises  of  the  dead,  and  of  the  gifts 
now  being  busily  hung  upon  the  poles.  Men 
were  lining  the  pit  with  beaver  skins.  A  num- 
ber of  large  copper  kettles  were  set  on  these. 
A  hideous  scene  ensued. 

There  were  a  dozen  Indians  standing  in 
this  long  grave.  The  bodies  were  thrown  in 
to  them,  while  they  arranged  them  in  orderly 
rows  by  the  assistance  of  long  poles.  Those 
on  the  brink  cast  them  down  out  of  their 
fur  wrappings  in  showers  of  rattling  bones. 
Horrible  cries  attended  the  ceremony;  and 
around  immense  fires  danced  the  wild  red 
figures  like  demons  in  a  nightmare. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

YOUNG    AMERICANS 

IT  was  hard  to  believe  that  at  such  a  time 
and  place  the  two  unarmed  white  men  were 
safe,  yet  they  met  nothing  save  kind  usage. 
After  this  disgusting  orgy  was  over,  they  were 
conducted  quietly  and  peaceably  to  the  river, 
as  had  been  agreed. 

The  interpreter  still  attended  them.  On 
their  journey  to  the  St.  Lawrence  they  were 
present  at  a  feast  given  by  a  village  through 
which  they  passed,  in  honor  of  the  assem- 
bled chiefs,  dispersing  after  the  burial  ser- 
vices. The  large  bark  house  was  full  of 
guests,  seated  upon  furs  spread  over  the 
ground.  Each  visitor  as  he  entered  gave  a 
grunt  of  salute ;  each  carried  his  own  spoon 
and  wooden  dish.  The  host  served  the  feast, 
of  which  it  was  not  thought  courteous  for 
him  to  have  a  share.  The  company  thrust 
forward  their  wooden  dishes  to  be  filled  in 
turn.  First  came  boiled,  pounded  corn,  with 
bits  of  fish  and  flesh  unsalted.  Broiled  meats 


326       •     IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

of  various  kinds  were  next  set  forth,  and 
proved  very  palatable.  The  white  visitors 
were  treated  exactly  as  were  the  others.  The 
boys  quite  enjoyed  the  glimpse  of  savage  hos- 
pitality. 

They  found  canoes  at  the  shore  of  the 
river.  In  these  they  embarked  for  a  voyage 
to  Champlain's  fort.  It  was  an  enchanting 
trip,  past  forests  gay  with  vines  turning  red 
with  the  coming  autumn,  past  solid  walls  of 
green,  over  the  clear  blue  water  of  the  mighty 
stream.  By  and  by  the  buildings  came  into 
sight  that  the  great  discoverer  had  raised 
four  years  ago.  A  wooden  wall,  topped  by 
a  gallery  with  loopholes  for  guns,  ran  around 
three  inner  houses  and  a  courtyard,  from  one 
side  of  which  a  tall  dovecot  arose.  The 
whole  was  encompassed  by  a  moat.  Several 
small  cannon  stood  on  the  platform,  pointed 
towards  the  St.  Lawrence.  A  large  store- 
house joined  the  fort,  and  a  garden  was  laid 
out  near  by,  stripped  of  its  fruits,  for  summer 
was  over.  Champlain  himself  came  to  meet 
his  guests.  He  was  a  round-faced,  stout  man, 
with  the  penetrating  glance  of  one  accus- 
tomed to  peril  and  to  relying  upon  observa- 
tion and  quick  reflection.  He  had  made  sev- 
eral voyages  to  France  in  the  past  few  years, 


YOUNG  AMERICANS  327 

but  this  season,  fortunately,  he  had  omitted 
the  excursion. 

They  were  made  heartily  welcome.  It  ap- 
peared that  he  knew  M.  Chapelain,  and  of 
course  had  heard  of  Hudson's  expedition. 
He  gave  such  gifts  to  their  guide  as  the  man 
demanded,  dismissing  him  well  pleased. 

"  Now  what  are  we  to  do  with  you  ?  "  asked 
the  Frenchman. 

"  Our  dearest  hope,"  said  Giles,  "  is  to  be- 
come American  colonists." 

"You  have  not  had  enough  of  it,  with 
what  you  have  undergone  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,"  they  cried  with  one  voice.  "We 
only  ask  for  another  chance." 

"  I  would  not  advise  you  to  stay  here  with 
me,"  said  Cham  plain,  frowning,  "  nor  at  Port 
Royal  in  Acadia,  although  I  can  send  you 
thither.  Matters  here  are  sadly  unsettled. 
Then,  if  you  have  friends  in  France,  you 
naturally  would  wish  to  return  to  them  for  a 
season,  to  assure  them  of  your  welfare.  I 
should  advise  your  return  in  the  next  vessel 
that  comes  from  home  to  the  Port." 

"  It  was  our  own  thought,  sir,"  said  Giles. 
"  Then  we  can  make  a  fresh  start  to  some 
one  of  the  colonies." 

"  You  are  two  gallant  youths,"  the  older 


328  IN  THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

man  remarked,  with  a  knowing  smile.  "  Surely 
it  will  be  your  own  fault  if  you  return  to 
America  alone." 

Giles  blushed.    "  Jan's  sister  " — he  began. 

Champlain  laughed,  yet  his  eyes  were 
moist. 

"  Yours  is  a  beautiful  friendship,"  he  cried, 
"  like  that  of  David  and  Jonathan.  You  even 
look  for  a  closer  bond  between  you.  I  trust 
you  may  be  brothers,  according  to  your 
hope."  ' 

They  were  given  over  to  other  guides  by 
their  good  host,  and  before  the  winter  came 
arrived  at  the  Acadian  colony,  flourishing  a 
few  years  before,  but  now  reduced  to  a  fam- 
ished state  that  found  it  hard  to  greet  joyfully 
any  addition  to  their  number.  Fortunately 
the  new  arrivals  brought  food  with  them,  but 
the  winter  was  long  and  severe.  No  ship 
arrived  from  France  with  succor :  they  were 
reduced  to  piteous  straits.  On  a  fair  May 
day  the  long  anticipated  vessel  from  home 
appeared.  Captain  Fleury  found  only  five 
men  at  Port  Royal,  the  rest  being  scattered 
about  the  woods  searching  for  roots  and  fish- 
ing in  the  streams.  He  replenished  the  lean 
larder,  took  the  two  priests  of  the  settlement 
on  board  with  him,  and  invited  our  heroes  to 


YOUNG  AMERICANS  329 

accompany  him  and  his  chief,  La  Saussaye, 
on  a  further  cruise  to  establish  a  settlement. 

The  boys  accepted  delightedly.  They  sailed 
on  along  the  coast.  A  fog  arose,  in  which 
they  suffered  extreme  terrors,  every  instant 
dreading  the  crash  upon  a  deadly  reef.  The 
following  morning  saw  a  bright  sun  shin- 
ing upon  the  ship  as  it  entered  the  waters 
known  as  Frenchman's  Bay,  upon  the  coast  of 
Maine. 

The  sailors  clamored  for  a  hearing  in  re- 
gard to  the  terms  of  their  engagement.  The 
priests  stilled  the  dispute  by  leading  them  all 
ashore,  where  mass  was  celebrated  and  a  cross 
raised  on  the  headland.  Father  Biard  went 
away  to  the  woods  to  visit  a  great  Indian 
chief,  Asticon,  who  sent  for  him.  He  found 
a  new  spot  for  a  settlement,  and  returned 
with  news  of  it  to  the  others. 

The  ship  was  brought  here  and  the  colo- 
nists were  landed.  They  raised  a  cross ; 
then  they  proposed  building  a  fort.  La 
Saussaye  was  determined  to  dig  ground  and 
sow  crops  at  once.  They  were  in  the  midst 
of  a  quarrel,  when  a  warning  shout  from  the 
beach  called  them  away  from  their  troubles, 
and  they  flocked  down  to  the  shore. 

A  vessel  was  approaching  the  land  at  all 


330  IN  THE  BRAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

speed.  The  decks  were  thronged  with  men. 
Seven  cannon  projected  from  either  side. 
Red  flags  waved  from  masthead  and  stern. 
It  was  an  English  smuggling  bark,  under  the 
command  of  Samuel  Argall,  lately  busying 
himself  in  the  affairs  of  the  Jamestown  col- 
ony. He  had,  this  same  spring,  captured  the 
Indian  princess  Pocahontas  and  carried  her 
to  Jamestown,  where  she  was  wooed  and  wed 
by  Master  Rolfe.  His  present  errand  was  to 
expel  the  French  from  any  settlements  in  the 
limits  of  King  James's  patents.  He  was  sent 
out  by  the  governor  of  Virginia,  and  led  by 
an  Indian  whom  he  had  picked  up  in  Penob- 
scot  Bay. 

Everything  was  confusion  among  the  set- 
tlers. Their  pilot  ran  away  and  hid  among 
the  islands.  La  Saussaye  was  completely  at 
a  loss  for  advice.  Fleury,  a  priest,  three  of 
the  under  officers,  Giles,  and  Jan  hurried  to 
the  ship.  They  endeavored  to  cast  loose  her 
cables,  but  Argall  was  too  quick  for  them. 

A  volley  of  cannon  boomed  out,  while 
drums  and  trumpets  sounded  through  the  din. 
"  Fire !  "  called  the  captain. 

Giles  sprang  to  one  gun,  Jan  to  another. 
The  Englishman  was  intercepted  by  that  brave 
priest,  Du  Thet,  who  was  first  at  the  muzzle 


YOUNG  AMERICANS  331 

and  fired,  but  without  taking  aim.  There  was 
no  avail  in  pursuing  what  was  not  a  combat, 
but  carnage.  The  English  boarded  the  vessel, 
its  scanty  crew  every  one  wounded.  Du  Thet 
was  dead.  They  landed,  demanded  an  inter- 
view with  the  colony's  commander,  and  asked 
for  his  royal  letters  and  commissions.  La 
Saussaye  was  not  able  to  produce  them,  for 
the  best  of  reasons.  He  had  fled  to  the  woods 
at  the  approach  of  Argall,  and  that  crafty 
fellow  improved  his  absence  by  ransacking 
the  chests  in  the  Frenchman's  tent,  removing 
such  papers  as  he  selected. 

His  play  at  courtesy  vanished  when  La 
Saussaye  admitted  that  he  could  not  show  his 
commissions.  He  and  fourteen  others  of  the 
colonists  were  set  adrift  in  an  open  boat.  In 
the  course  of  time,  after  many  vicissitudes, 
they  crossed  the  Bay  of  Fundy,  rounded  Cape 
Sable,  and  on  the  coast  of  Nova  Scotia  found 
two  French  traders  which  bore  them  back  to 
France. 

The  remaining  fourteen  men  were  conveyed 
on  board  Argall's  ship.  Father  Biard  said 
something  in  an  undertone  to  the  captain 
when  Giles,  his  head  bandaged,  followed  by 
Jan,  whose  arm  was  in  a  sling,  came  upon 
deck.  Argall  walked  up  to  them. 


332  IN  THE  BRAVE  DATS  OF  OLD 

"  Art  thou  an  Englishman  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  Yes,"  said  Giles.  "  And  my  friend  here 
is  Dutch." 

Argall  grew  very  red  as  he  saw  what  he 
had  done.  "  How  came  ye  in  such  com- 
pany?" he  questioned  sullenly. 

"  Because  they  gave  shelter  and  food  to 
two  starving  wayfarers,"  was  Giles's  defiant 
answer. 

"  What  meanst  thou?" 

He  told  the  outlines  of  their  three-years' 
voyage. 

"  Hudson  !  "  exclaimed  the  smuggler. 
" '  T  was  he  discovered  the  river  to  the 
southwest  of  us." 

"  Ay.  We  were  on  the  Half  Moon  with 
him." 

"  Is 't  so  ?  There  is  a  Dutch  trading  fort 
established  on  the  island  at  its  mouth. 
Knew  ye  aught  of  that?" 

Giles  shook  his  head. 

"I  am  bound  for  Virginia,"  their  captor 
proceeded  to  explain.  "  An  it  please  ye,  we 
can  drop  you  there  upon  our  way.  Mayhap 
ye  would  relish  it  rather  than  further  voyage 
with  us." 

They  understood  this  for  a  shame-faced 
attempt  towards  restitution  for  their  misuse. 


YOUNG  AMERICANS  333 

They  assented  to  the  proposition ;  not  long 
afterwards  it  was  carried  out. 

On  a  lovely  summer  day  they  again  entered 
the  noble  bay  from  which  their  unfortunate 
leader  had  looked  forth  upon  the  island  of 
a  future  metropolis.  Four  houses  stood  where 
the  city  of  New  York  greets  the  traveler  to- 
day. All  trace  of  Winona  and  her  wandering 
tribe  had  disappeared.  Yet  in  the  future 
Giles  more  than  once  found  that  the  totem 
she  had  given  him  served  to  make  allies  for 
him  among  the  Indians. 

A  ship  soon  came  out  from  Holland  which 
took  the  two  aboard.  After  forty-two  months 
of  wandering  they  set  foot  once  more  upon 
European  soil.  They  stopped  at  Portsmouth 
to  give  poor  Mistress  Hudson  their  sad  tid- 
ings and  then  hastened  on  to  France.  Public 
and  private  news  awaited  them.  Prince  Henry 
of  England  was  dead.  Giles's  country  was 
unquiet  as  ever.  Holland  was  struggling  out 
from  under  its  long  pressure  of  strife.  Ger- 
many was  torn  by  those  dissensions  which 
should  culminate  but  shortly  in  the  Thirty- 
Years'  War.  France  was  suffering  from  that 
disordered  state  that  characterized  the  re- 
gency. M.  Chapelain,  who  long  ago  so  feared 
the  plague,  had  fallen  a  victim  to  it  in  the 


334  IN   THE  BRAVE  DAYS  OF  OLD 

previous  autumn.  His  widow,  Dame  Tryon, 
and  the  young  girls  greeted  with  rapture  the 
adventurers  they  had  given  up  for  lost. 

The  remnant  of  Hudson's  crew,  after  en- 
during untold  agonies,  had  been  taken  on 
board  a  fishing-vessel  and  brought  to  land. 
The  youths  never  sought  to  see  any  of  them 
again. 

Preparations  were  speedily  completed  for 
leaving  a  country  that  had  nothing  more  to 
offer  to  any  one  of  them.  Even  Mme.  Chape- 
lain  and  Nurse  Janet  were  glad  to  accompany 
Meg  and  Jan  and  Giles,  while  Annemie  be- 
came Mistress  Valentine  the  day  before  the 
vessel  sailed  from  port. 

They  had  selected  port  Manhattan,  on  Hud- 
son's River,  for  their  future  home.  The  ship 
entered  the  harbor  at  sunset  one  fair  day. 
Giles  pointed  the  site  of  their  new  fortunes 
to  his  young  wife  and  to  his  sister. 

"  i  'T  is  a  goodly  and  a  pleasant  land,'  "  he 
quoted  Hudson's  words. 

"  And  henceforth,"  added  Jan,  "  we  are 
neither  English,  Dutch,  nor  French.  From 
this  hour,  thank  God,  we  may  call  ourselves 
Americans." 


CAMBRIDGE,  MASSACHUSETTS,  U.  S.  A. 

ELECTROTYPED  AND  PRINTED  BY 

H.  O.  HOUGHTON  AND  CO. 


A     000118725     1 


